Healer's Touch
by EdenSnake
Summary: Kel rides into battle to protect New Hope, leaving Neal behind. But when disaster strikes, all hope turns to our favorite green-eyed healer. Can he hold up under the pressure in order to save his best friend? KelNeal eventually. COMPLETE..ish
1. Kel's NOT jealous! She's not!

Er..._newer_ **A/N**: Healer's Touch is undergoing some renovations, guys! Nothing big, just format changes, etc. etc. Yes, I know I'm just stalling on writing the twelfth chapter, but...leave me alone.  
  
(A/N: Before we get things going here, I have to say: yes, Dom and Yuki exist. Fortunately for us, they are not Kel and Neal's lovers and/or crushes. This opens up a lot of new possibilities, don't you think? - Okay, enjoy!)  
  
Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan sat at her desk, head bent over paperwork scattered over its surface. She growled in frustration and muttered, "Drat it. When are we going to get some _true_ clerks?" (Lord Wyldon had yet to send over another shipment of her beloved paper-shufflers.) Finally, after much grumbling and sighing, she filled out the last form. Signing it with a flourish, she leaned back in her chair, shaking her short-cropped light brown hair out of her face. She decided to fully relish these rare minutes of peace by closing her eyes for a short nap.  
  
Her momentarily blissful thoughts were interrupted by someone barging through her door. The sudden noise startled Kel, and she squeaked and toppled backward. From her awkward position on the floor, she glared at the grinning Neal. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to knock before you enter?" she grumbled, accepting his hand up.  
  
"Didn't_ your_ mother teach you not to lean your chair back so far?" he retorted.  
  
Kel winced, his point taken, and hurriedly changed the subject. "So, what is the great Sir Nealan doing out of bed before the noon bell?"  
  
Neal frowned at her, the very picture of prim and proper. "What's this? The spectacular and ever-chivalrous Keladry of Mindelan, even suggesting shirking one's duties for the simple luxury of _sleep_?" Then he grinned, stern mask gone. "Besides, young Evelyn Grier took sick during the night, and she needed a big, strong Healer to help her recover. Luckily, we just _happen_ to have one in residence here at New Hope." Here he puffed out his chest proudly.  
  
Kel looked around. "I don't see any big, strong Healers around anywhere. Perhaps she was thinking of someone else," she mused. This earned her a cuff on the ear from Neal, who was out the door before she could return the bodily harm.  
  
"Breakfast is in ten minutes!" he yelled from the hallway before slamming the door.

During breakfast, Kel was talking to Merric around a mouthful of food when she saw a buxom blonde saunter up to Neal. She leaned over him and said sweetly, "Oh Sir Neal, thank you _oh_ so much for helping me with that _awful _sore throat. How can I _ever _repay you?" Neal immediately began to choke on his porridge.  
  
Merric glanced over at the pair and grinned. "Looks like Neal's got an admirer," he commented, indicating the now crimson-faced Healer.  
  
Kel scowled, suddenly in a cloudy mood. "Oh, he wouldn't even like her if she hadn't the physical assets."  
  
"Of course not," retorted Merric. "He wouldn't be a true Queenscove if he didn't admire a woman's form."  
  
"Yes, well, it doesn't seem _right_," Kel said crossly. "I mean, this lass here probably can't differ a horse from a terrier, but all the men want her because of her looks. There are plenty of women out there who are truly intelligent, but do men want them? No! Why? Because they don't have _breasts_!" Seeing that Merric continued to look at her, amused, she snapped, "What?!" He shook his head and returned to his porridge.  
  
Kel glared at him for a second more, then turned back to her own bowl. Her gloomy thoughts lifted a bit as the blonde flounced away, but quickly returned when she spied Neal's vermilion-hued cheeks._ ::It's not that I'm jealous,::_ she told herself. _::I'm not! Neal's my best friend; he can be attracted to anyone he pleases.::_ She paused. _::It's just—so frustrating! That Evelyn lass is so shallow, and yet every man wants to be with her!::_ She sighed, now melancholy, and shoveled in the porridge, which was now cold and tasted like chain mail.  
  
Suddenly, a man burst through the doors into the mess. Kel immediately recognized him as Joel, one of the sentries who manned the north wall. His face was dead white, and he gripped his sword hilt with one trembling hand. "Lady Kel!" he yelled, his voice hoarse and creaking with fear. "We're under attack!"  
  
Kel stood up. "How many, Joel?" she demanded of him.  
  
Joel stammered. Kel grabbed his shoulders. "How many?"  
  
"About a hun'ert; a hun'ert and fifty, at least."  
  
Kel paled. "Soldiers!" she yelled. "To your posts!" She dashed out of the mess hall.  
  
Tobe, who had been eating with Loesia nearby, hopped up and ran out of the room after Kel. "Lady, wait!" he yelled after her, panting. "Wait up!"  
  
Kel ran into her rooms and began to suit up her mail. She cursed herself for not being ready for an attack such as this and yanked off her boots. Tobe ran in a minute after she did. As he kneeled and strapped on her shin plates, he growled, "Gods-curst Scanrans. Can' even stop raidin' long enough for a man to eat 'is breakfast!"  
  
Kel grinned down at him despite her urgency. "I'd hardly call you a man, lad," she replied.  
  
Tobe stopped what he was doing at glared up at her. "Well isn't milady saucy this morning," he said grumpily. "Seem's she's forgotten we've Scanrans to crush."  
  
Her smile faded. "You certainly know how to spoil a good humor," she commented as they stood up and jogged down the passageway toward the outer doors.  
  
Kel joined Neal at the wall. He looked grim. "How is it?" she asked softly.  
  
"Bad," he said, eyes still on the field below. "Merric's squad went out and nearly got slaughtered. They only just made it back in one piece."  
  
She winced and turned to go. "I'm heading out there," she said tersely.  
  
Neal looked at her, his vivid green eyes wide in disbelief. "What?!" he yelped. "Kel—you can't. Who'll command the fort?"  
  
"They need me more out there," she replied. Seeing him open his mouth to protest, she continued, "Neal, they're my people. I can't let them die at the hands of some paltry raiders." She began to walk down the wall to Sergeant Emerson of Golden Hill, but Neal's voice made her halt.  
  
"Kel!" he yelled. She stopped her purposeful stride and glanced back; Neal jogged to catch up with her. "I'm coming with you."  
  
"No," she said flatly.  
  
"If you're going, I'm going."  
  
"Neal, no! I need you here to take command, in case I fall." He began to argue again. "Neal!" He quieted. She looked him in the eye, making sure he understood. "Do not leave this fort. My people—our people—need you to stay here. Do it for their sake, if not for mine."  
  
He sighed, and nodded slowly. "Fine."  
  
She turned to leave once more. "Kel!" She stopped again.  
  
"Yes...?"  
  
"If you get yourself killed out there, I'll never forgive you."  
  
She managed half of a crooked smile. "I'll do the best I can." Turning for the third time, she approached Emerson. "Sergeant."  
  
"Yes, Commander?"  
  
"I need you to take your squad out there, along with Sergeant Bane's. We're going to go drive those northern flea-breeders back to where they belong."  
  
Emerson grinned; like his counterpart, Bane, he relished a good scuffle. "Shall I bring th' civilian squads out as well, Lady Kel?"  
  
"Brilliant, Emerson. Return to the north gate in no more than five minutes."  
  
The sergeant nodded and bowed. Kel returned the gesture. As she straightened, she shook herself. "All right, Mindelan," she said softly as the troops rallied below her. "Time to fight some Scanrans." 

**A/N:**  
Oh, a cliffhanger! Joy! Okay, people, read and review, you know you want to!


	2. Neal worries OR Kel gets slashed!

_Newer_ **A/N:** Hey, I forgot to mention this last time, but if you've already read HT, you don't need to reread all of these. And sorry if your inbox is suddenly overflowing with Author Alerts. Soon, I promise, the twelfth chapter will be out. Heh. Heh-heh.  
  
Yeah, I'm lazy as hell. Shoot. Me. Now.  
  
(A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for the kickin' reviews! Just a reminder—Yuki, well, she doesn't exist. I mean, she exists, but Neal doesn't like her. I know this is shameless plot-tweaking on my part, but I'm too lazy to work on an intimate scenario where she cheats on him and/or dies.)  
  
(P.S. Last time I was stupid and forgot to do this, but **DISCLAIMER**: Recognize it? It's not mine. Simple!)  
  
(P.S.S. This chapter switches back and forth between Kel and Neal's perspective; I thought I should make that clear. Enjoy!)  
  
Neal paced back and forth on the wall, furious at Kel for treating him like a spoiled child. "How dare she?" he thought angrily. "Charging off to fight in battle while leaving me here to do not a gods-curst thing!" He growled in frustration, feeling helpless. Seeing several civilians looking at him curiously, he snapped, "What?! Nothing to see here!" They shook their heads at him and went on their way.  
  
He returned to his melancholy thoughts, muttering about nosy hen-cluckers too inquisitive for their own good. However, beneath his anger at Kel, he felt a deep-seated worry for her. The hairs prickled on the back of his neck as he thought of her against innumerable Scanrans, fighting them off all alone. (He had conveniently forgotten about the squads she had taken with her.) "Come on, Kel," he said softly. "Hurry back soon."

--

Meanwhile, Kel herself wasn't in the best circumstances. Scanrans surrounded her on all sides, and none of her allies were in sight. While the circling enemies respected the reach and sharpness of her glaive, every minute one or two of them crept closer. Peachblossom reared, kicking out at a sudden lunging man, while Kel slashed at two soldiers and gutted a third. Panting, she staved off a blow from behind just in time. They were closing in on her, fast.  
  
"Tobe!" she yelled, still trying to keep a careful eye on her surroundings. "Can you get some of the mounts to throw them?"  
  
She never heard his far-off reply, as she was suddenly preoccupied by the arrow sprouting from her left shoulder. "Augh!" she cried in pain and fury, angry with herself for not watching the trees as well as the horsemen before her. She swung Peachblossom around, attempting to yank arrow from muscle while still fighting off the Scanrans. Peachblossom reared again, and Kel nearly fell, fuzzy from the pain in her arm. She gritted her teeth and tried to stave off the agony now burning through her shoulder, but she knew her Yamani tactics would fail eventually. When that happened, she was easy meat for the surrounding enemies.

--  
  
A voice yanked Neal out of his sulky reverie: "Somebody! Somebody, help!" He recognized Tobe's voice, shrill and high-pitched with panic. Neal suddenly realized Tobe's presence could only mean one thing: Kel was in trouble. He was sprinting before his mind had fully processed this revelation.  
  
"Tobe!" he yelled, still at least ten yards away from the trembling boy.  
  
"Sir Neal! Thank th' gods!" Tobe's temples were streaked with sweat, and a scratch on his cheekbone dripped crimson down his jaw line. Neal prayed the circumstances weren't serious. Maybe Kel simply needed more soldiers. Yes, that was it. Nothing serious at all. Or so he hoped.  
  
"It's Kel, isn't it?" he blurted, wincing at the possible reply.  
  
Tobe nodded. "She's surrounded on all sides, an' she's hurt. It was all I could do t'get away for help."  
  
Neal felt his heart plummet, and he cursed softly. "I told her not to go out there; I knew she'd get herself killed. But did she listen to me? No!" He sighed and shook his head, fully aware of what he needed to do. "I'm going after her!" he yelled over his shoulder as he ran for the stables.

--  
  
Kel felt her grip on her glaive weakening as blood ran from her shoulder. _::Goddess, send help soon,::_ she prayed._ ::I don't think I can hold them off much longer.::_ Four soldiers lunged at her now, all attempting to skewer her on their cruel-looking swords. She sliced one from torso to collarbone in an odd up-down maneuver, and parried with another coming from her front. She tried to keep an eye on the others while slicing at this fellow, who was obviously a trained swordsman. Movement from her left caught the corner of her eye, and she swung her glaive just in time, preventing the skull-shattering impact. She gutted the offending man before he realized what was happening—the surprise in his deadened eyes told the story.  
  
Suddenly, a sharp, fiery pain bit deep into her right side. Kel gasped and clapped a hand to her side. Kel looked down and immediately wished she hadn't: crimson blood gushed from a wound that extended roughly two hands' lengths. Her ears roared, and her vision went dark around the edges; she didn't feel herself topple from Peachblossom.  
  
--

Neal saw her fall.  
  
"Kel! NO!" he yelled, galloping into the fray with sword held high. The Scanrans scattered at the sight of his wild emerald eyes and pale, furious features. He quickly leaned off his brown mare and yanked the fainting Kel off the ground by her elbows, hoisting her into the saddle behind him.  
  
"Nngh...Neal?" mumbled Kel, barely holding onto consciousness. "Don't die on me now, Lady Knight," Neal said grimly, kicking his horse into a full-fledged sprint. "Don't die on me now."

A/N: Ooh! Ooh! Another cliffhanger! Yeah, I know this chapter was short an' crappy. Next one'll be better, Scout's Honor. ::Conveniently forgets that she was not in the Girl Scouts::  
  
Okay, I just want to make things clear again here (I know I said this at the top, but still): my friend recently expressed unhappiness because Yuki isn't present in this story. The fact is, folks, I'm a lazy person. I wanted this story to focus on Kel and Neal without bringing a love-triangle aspect into it.   
  
Also, review! Third chapter's on the way; boring classes are really very good environments for budding fanfictions. Adieu! 


	3. Neal decides he likes protecting others

(**A/N**: Okay, before we start things off here people, I just want to say thanks. Even though ffn's being a little irritating right now and not showing me my reviews, my friend has told me about all your positive support. Thank you! Okay, I know that was cheesy. Thanks anyway.)

(P.S. I really, really hope this story isn't going to turn out too fluffy…anyway. Have fun. .-)

**DISCLAIMER**: Gee, I wish I were Tamora Pierce. Then I could have a cool name…write all these great stories…be completely in control of who Kel falls in love with…have Neal…oooh…::delightful shiver:: Unfortunately, I'm not and I don't. ::dejected sigh::

Neal rode through the wooded forest, the sounds of the battle behind him clanging through the trees. Despite his worry, the warm weight of Kel slumping against his back was slightly comforting, though he hated to admit it. After judging that they were safely out of harm's way (or at least for the time being), he dismounted, gently pulling Kel along with him. As he began to lay her down on the hard ground, he quickly thought better of it and whipped off his cloak for her to lie on. ::_No sense in her getting dirt in her wounds_::, he thought.

As he laid her down gently on the time-worn cloth, he winced at the sight of her injuries. Kel bled from numerous scratches, but the ones that most worried him were the shoulder and side wounds. He could heal cuts, but these were deep. He hoped to Mithros that he could save her.

It wasn't wise to try a complete healing here, but the least he could do would be to stop the bleeding. He hesitated for a second, then lifted up the bottom of Kel's shirt. She murmured in her unconsciousness, and Neal lifted a cool hand to stroke her forehead for a moment. Continuing to roll up the hem of the shirt, he grimaced at the sight of her mangled ribs. He lay a green-glowing hand gently on her side and immediately took a sharp intake of breath. The wound was much deeper than it looked, and it took all of his will not to cry out in surprise and dismay. It was amazing that she had lasted this long already without a healing.

Stopping the bleeding took much more energy than he had expected, and by the time he had finished, his face was white and forehead streaked with sweat. He shook his dark hair out of his eyes as he contemplated the arrow puncture, which had to be at least as deep as the one in her side. "Stupid, Kel," he muttered. "Very stupid." Why couldn't she have stayed at home and commanded from there? Then she wouldn't be in this mess, and he wouldn't have to be worried sick for her. He sighed and shook his head at his own folly. Kel would never stay out of danger when her people were at risk, and this time was no exception, whether her best friend willed it or not.

He stopped for a moment to take a second look at the gash caused by the arrow. By all rights, it should have been fatal—the puncture extended from the muscles in her shoulder to down past her collarbone. But that was Kel for you—never die when everyone else expects you to. Neal really should have expected no less from her, getting fatally wounded in two places and then living.

Unfortunately for Kel, if this shoulder wound didn't get healed—or at least bandaged—soon, they were both sure to be found and exterminated by stragglers from the fight in the nearby clearing. Neal was caught, dreadfully so, between his best friend before him and the ever-nearing battle sounds behind. It would be plain idiotic to heal her now, with Scanrans getting closer and closer—it would be wiser to save his strength. ::_Well, who said I was wise?_:: Neal thought, and extended both hands toward the wound in Kel's shoulder.

He was so drawn into his healing that he didn't hear the crackle of leaves before him, and was jerked out of his trance only when a twig snapped not twenty yards away. Neal looked up, startled, and saw he was facing down three leering Scanrans, all ready to take down the unsuspecting healer.

Cursing his stupidity and emotions, Neal immediately grabbed the closest weapon at hand, which happened to be the dagger hidden in his boot top. Unfortunately, he saw immediately that this would not do against the bloodstained steel monstrosities of the enemies at hand, and quickly pulled his sword out of his sheath. Stepping protectively over the slumped body of Kel, he braced himself.

The Scanrans didn't keep him waiting. They were on him in a flash; luckily, they hadn't stopped to think of how they might work together to kill him. Instead, each tried his own methods, so that Neal was free to spar with one and not be slaughtered by another sneaking up behind him. He quickly sliced a vermilion line across the torso of the nearest; the fighter went down, fast, clutching at his chest. ::_One down, two to go_,:: Neal thought grimly.

The second and third were a bit more intelligent than the first, who had simply charged in like a madman. They kept him on his toes, jabbing towards him and pulling away, trying to spear him by chance. Finally, Neal gashed one in the side as his enemy tried to pull away; the Scanran fell, but not before giving him a cut across the bicep.

Neal grimaced, but the wound was shallow, and in his left arm; he could still fight. He _had_ to fight, for Kel and for himself. Truth be told, he wasn't used to being responsible for someone else, and he rather liked the feeling. All the more reason not to throw it away.

He faced down the last blond-haired demon, who was grinning like a lunatic. He charged Neal down, but the Tortallan was too quick for him. At the last second, he stepped aside, and the Scanran went down. He was immediately speared by Neal's sword.

Neal wiped his sword on the ground and resheathed it, breathing hard. He spied Kel, still lying on the ground, and made a face at her. "I hope you're happy," he told his unconscious best friend. "I just faced down three Scanrans for you, but do I get any thanks? No. Typical." He sighed, ever the victim (even when playing to an inattentive audience in the form of the fainted Kel), and gently hoisted her up onto his horse. As Neal himself mounted Magewhisper, he suddenly realized how fatigued he was. The major healing had worn him out; they both needed to get out of the danger zone, and quickly, because he wasn't sure he could stave off another skirmish.

He briefly contemplated tying Kel to the saddle, but decided against it: if she slid, she could hang herself, given the history of Neal's knots. No, better to just keep a firm hold on her. As he looked back, he shuddered at the sight of her pale face and still-bleeding (albeit sluggishly) shoulder; she almost looked – No. He wouldn't allow himself to think it. Still, the thought niggled at the back of his mind, repeating that Kel needed a real healing, not some half-done job on a forest floor. All the more reason to get back to New Hope as soon as possible, thought Neal, and grasped a firmer hold on her before cantering through the woods.

(A/N: Okay, I know that was another short one, but that seemed like a perfect time to cut off the chapter. I had a better ending written, but my idiotic computer deleted it. ::fumes:: Hope you guys liked it! Review and I will love you. Probably.

Adios!)


	4. Tobe's distraction plan

(A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it took so long; I've been way busy. Also, I had this whole chapter written up, and then I lost the notebook it was written in. ::angry at stupidity:: Okay, so enjoy!)

(**Disclaimer**: Everything but the plot is Tammy's, the lucky woman.)

Neal stood at the edge of the wood, gazing out at the battlefield. Scanran troops still battled fiercely with New Hope's squads, blocking the path to the fort — and help for Kel. He sighed, brows knit. If they stayed here, they'd be discovered for sure by scouts, but if they made a dash across to New Hope, it would be easy for enemy archers to pick them off. He growled in frustration and shook his head. Better to surprise the Scanrans with a moving target than stay here like sitting ducks.

He maneuvered Kel around so that she sat in front of him, leaning against his chest. It was harder to work the reins this way, but at least she would be protected from shots from behind. In a sudden stroke of intelligence, he draped his cloak over the both of them — perhaps the Scanrans, slow-witted as they were, wouldn't immediately recognize them as Tortallan. Taking a deep breath to ready himself, he kicked Magewhisper into a sprint.

The fighters on the field looked up, astonished, at the sound of thundering hooves and at the sight of Neal's wide-eyed green gaze. Neal momentarily witnessed their faces, slightly blurred, before galloping past them. Suddenly, an arrow whizzed over his head – the Scanran archers had apparently woken up from their reverie and decided that he was, indeed, a target. He swore and sped Magewhisper up, until the quick mare was sprinting over the rocky turf.

They were halfway to New Hope now; the air was dense with arrows. One grazed his thigh painfully, sending a white-hot streak of pain through his nerves. Neal gripped the reins tighter and ignored it – it was just a graze. He would heal; Kel might not. They rode on, blood dripping from the scratch in his leg. He could hear the sounds of metal clanging behind him: the Scanrans had given pursuit.

Finally, they rode across the bridge to New Hope, and Neal sighed with relief, drawing it up so that only their own soldiers, who knew the mechanism, could get in after him. He slowed the heavily breathing Magewhisper down to a trot as they rode through the gate that was always left inconspicuously open for animals. He dismounted, gently bringing Kel down after him. He cradled her in his arms as he stood there, surprised at how light she felt.

She suddenly cuddled her head against his chest, and Neal's heart lurched, releasing a tumult of emotions he didn't even know he possessed. He was angry, he realized: the thought that anyone could bring down Kel--_his_ Kel, the one person that he'd been convinced would outlast everyone-the thought that anyone could make her helpless as a kitten sent tremors of rage through his core. He clenched his hands and forced himself to calm down; she would make it. She would live.

Or so he hoped.

(A/N: I was tempted, oh so tempted, to leave a cliffhanger here, but since I love you all, I won't. Also because I didn't want to be skinned and dragged from an 18-wheeler. Teehee. Sorry for the interruption. Please continue reading.)

He was jolted into the present by a yell. "Sir Neal!" Tobe yelled, dashing toward Neal. He stopped just short of running into the lanky, green-eyed knight, eyes widening in fear when he saw Kel. "Lady!" he exclaimed, voice cracking in fear. "Gods, Neal! Is she hurt? Wha'-wha' happened?"

Neal suddenly realized that pandemonium would reign, should word get out that the famed commander of New Hope was balancing on the thin thread between this life and the next. "She'll be fine," he said softly, lying for his own benefit as well as Tobe's. "But Tobe, you have to listen to me. I need to get Kel to the infirmary without all manner of folk seeing her. They'd panic if they knew she was hurt," he said in response to the boy's questioning look. "I need you to create a distraction so that I can smuggle her in there."

Tobe nodded, his chin thrust out determinedly. "Gimme five minutes." He rushed off to find Loey; he'd need her help for his plan of distraction. He was sure she'd agree, once he'd told her about Kel.

After four, Neal heard yelling from near the mess. He took it as his cue, and began to walk purposely towards the infirmary, his cloak draped over Kel in his arms. As he passed the distant mess, he heard snippets of shouting:

"Loey, I've always loved you!"

"Tobe, I told you, we're just too young—" A startled gasp followed.

Neal glanced over to the crowd surrounding the area; with his height, he easily saw the scene that drew the onlookers: Tobe and Loesia kissing passionately. He paused for a second, wondering how a twelve-year-old had learned to kiss quite so well (and whether Tobe would give him some pointers when all this was over), but then shook himself out of his reverie: Tobe had done his part of the deal, and it was time to get Kel to the infirmary.

He walked quickly, resisting the urge to break out into a sprint. After all, the point was to not attract attention. Finally, after agonizing minutes of worry, he reached the infirmary. All pretenses gone, he burst in the door. Luckily for Neal, no one was in the ward but a sleeping adolescent who had taken a bump on the head with a staff. He laid Kel down on the cot as gently as possible, trying as hard as he could not to jostle her wounds. He pulled the blanket up around her, took off his own cloak, and set to work on healing her further.

The wounds took much more energy than he had used in the forest–had the arrow been magicked? It must have been; there was no other reason that the cut was so dratted hard to heal. Trying to seal it felt like pushing back a boulder the size of Fort Steadfast – every time he attempted to, it gradually opened itself again. And the sword wound worried him – it had come incredibly close to one of Kel's major arteries. One slip-up and she would be a goner. He became so absorbed in his work that he didn't hear soft footsteps behind him until a voice spoke.

"Neal! Where have you been?" Neal jumped and turned to look at the speaker; Merric's eyes were wide. "We can't find Kel, I heard she spoke to you la-" Suddenly, he got a good look at the figure on the cot. He went dead white. "Kel – she can't be – is she-"

Neal sighed. "No. She's alive." He didn't add that there was a good chance that she could cease to be, and soon. Voicing his worries would make them real, more likely to happen. Better to let them acidly eat away his insides.

Merric looked distinctly relieved at this, but his freckles still stood out in his paler-than-normal skin. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a voice behind him.

"Sir Nealan! Who is that? Have y'been healin' 'im all this time?

Both Neal and Merric swiveled to look at Cathrina, the chief midwife from their refugees; in her arms she held a squalling child. Neal instinctively moved to shield Kel's face. "Just – a soldier. Yes. He was hurt badly in battle, so I'm trying to heal him as quickly as possible. He's an excellent fighter, so we need him back in the troops."

The midwife raised an eyebrow, looking doubtful at his stammering speech. "Have y'eaten then, lad? Tough healin' takes a lot out've ye."

Neal shook his head sheepishly.

"How long have y'been healin' 'im, anyhow?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Erm…I'm not sure. Since the noon bell, I think."

Merric and Cathrina looked astonished. Merric was the first to speak. "Are you INSANE? You can't heal people for four hours straight! Honestly, Neal, I thought you were smarter than that! Don't be an idiot!"

Neal felt his fists clench. He didn't need this right now. He really didn't need this. "Cathrina," he said, barely choking the words out through his gritted teeth, "Could you _please_ excuse us for a moment?" She quickly exited, leaving the two alone.

Merric continued to rant at him. "Neal, Kel's my friend too, but if you can't save her, don't sacrifice yourself! We need you too!"

Neal didn't feel himself stand, but he must have, for he was suddenly on his feet. "Look, Merric," he yelled, forgetting about the possibility of someone hearing. "Obviously I'm not the only idiot here, because if you think I'm going to leave my BEST FRIEND to DIE, you are SADLY MISTAKEN!" Merric looked at a loss for words, and Neal kept ranting. "I don't CARE how much of my precious energy this takes, I'm not going to stand by for the sake of my own health while SHE wastes away!" Neal stopped, panting. "Do you understand?!"

The red-haired knight opposite him nodded mutely. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead turned away. "Where are you going?" Neal shot after him.

"To go get you some food. There's no sense trying to save her on an empty stomach."

Neal ignored this and settled back down on his stool, pulse still racing furiously. The idea that anyone would ever consider even suggesting that he abandon his best friend, who had stood by him when he needed her most – it made his blood boil. As if he would ever do such a thing!

He took a deep breath, calming himself. Time to start working again on that arrow wound.

(**A/N**: I had SO MUCH FUN writing this chapter, especially the Tobe/Loey part. I think after I finish this, I might start exploring that relationship, because it's never been done. What do you all think?)

(P.S. I love my reviewers! basks in reviews Hehe. It feels so nice to be called uber cool. Shoutouts to all of you! I would name you all, but frankly, I'm way lazy. You love me anyway, right? ESPECIALLY because I didn't leave you on a cliffie this time!! I made an extra-special effort not to, just for you all. Okay, hope you liked it! Next chapter comin' soon.)


	5. Worry

(**Disclaimer**: everything except plot belongs to Tamora Pierce, authoress extraordinaire, please don't sue me as I don't think chocolate chips or Mountain Dew are legal tender.)

(A/N: How I do love my reviewers! Sorry for prolonged update, I've been too busy for my own good. ;P I hope you enjoy this chapter! Also, about the Tobe/Loey thing—I'm definitely starting a fanfic on them. I'm incubating some ideas as we speak! It'll probably be set a few years after this one—enough time for hormones to kick in, eh? Au revoir!)

(P.S. I tried to hold off the fluff in the beginning of this chapter, but I, er, couldn't really help it. CAN YOU BLAME ME?!)

Neal sat back from the cot, fatigue lining his features. That was it, then – he was drained, utterly drained, excepting the slight murmur of Gift needed to keep him standing. Merric had been right – he had overdone it. ::_But it was worth it_,:: he thought, studying the figure on the thin mattress. ::_It was worth it, to give her a chance at living_.::

He knew he should sleep, but it seemed too much of an effort to even close his heavy eyelids, let alone get up and move to an adjacent cot. And he _couldn't_ nap – he had a patient to take care of, after all. Instead, he found his gaze meandering over Kel's features. Feeling as if he fought his way through a hazy mist shrouding his mind, he let his eyes rest on her lips, which were slightly parted as she took shallow breaths. Neal dimly realized how plush they were, even chapped from the April winds. Paired with her long, dark eyelashes, they could easily make her a beauty rivaling the court butterflies he flirted with at balls. In fact, now that he thought about it, she was already beauti – wait. Neal sat bolt upright, eyes opening wide. What was he DOING? Thinking like that about his best friend – he reminded himself that she was his friend and nothing more – while she lay on a cot, close to death? Bad Neal. Very bad Neal.

He shook his head and drained half of the nearest water pitcher over his head. Better to stay alert, if being drowsy released thoughts like those. Where had that even come from? Kel was his best friend, and he didn't think of her that way! He was pretty certain, anyway...no. None of that. No indecision. Platonic relationship. That's all it was.

Neal scooted his chair further back from the cot, determined to stay fully awake now. No way was he falling into that half-asleep state again. He had a responsibility to keep vigil over his patient, and not to let himself slip into a dizzy form of mind where, it seemed, anything was possible.

A hand on his shoulder called Neal back into the present some time later. He looked up into the concerned chestnut eyes of Merric, who seemed to have recovered from their earlier fight. "How is she?"

Neal hesitated, unwilling to tell Merric the entire story. Merric saw him preparing to formulate a lie and shook his shoulder. "Queenscove, be honest. Don't sugar-coat it for my sake."

The green-eyed healer bit his lip. "Well, she's not bleeding anymore, so…that's good, I suppose." Seeing one of Merric's gingery brows arch in clear disbelief, he sighed. "All right. The truth? The straight and honest truth?"

Here Merric obviously lost control. "DAMN IT, NEAL!" he yelled, then quickly lowered his voice at the realization that there were other people besides the three of them in the infirmary. He struggled to keep a calm, level voice. "Queenscove," he said in a half-whisper, teeth gritted, "Would you PLEASE just TELL me HOW she IS."

Neal closed his eyes, resigned. "Bad," he replied. "She – well – one of the wounds got infected. I don't know how, but who knows what the Scanrans have on their arrows. In any case, I'm drained. Completely." He opened his eyes again, and Merric was startled – shocked, even – to see tears glimmering in the corners of them. Neal wiped his eyes with the corner of his sleeve and continued: "I feel like dung, Merric. Pure dung. I shouldn't've let her go out there, I shouldn't have drained myself so quickly…"

Merric, fighting off the anxiety threatening to besiege his own heart, said, trying to comfort Neal, "But – there's a chance she'll live, right? I mean, a pretty good chance, at that. You're a spectacular healer, and you closed the wounds almost completely. If – well – if she dies, it won't be your fault. You did the best you possibly could." He laid his hand on Neal's shoulder, gripping it in silent apology and attempted comfort, before turning back towards the door. He needed time to process the information that Kel, one of his closest friends, might not be there for him in the morning. Until now, he'd never even allowed the thought a tiny space to take hold of in his brain – now it overwhelmed him with worry. He waited until he left the infirmary before stopping and leaning against a nearby wall to let his emotions overcome him.

Neal sat blankly staring at Kel's cot, numbed with misery. How could he have let this happen? One minute he had been sitting there, trying to keep himself from falling asleep – and then he had noticed it. The arrow wound had become swollen and hot. Now, Kel's entire body was feverish. After all that work, all that effort , one fever could finish her off. Neal cursed himself for not being more attentive; if he had noticed it earlier, he could have – he could have – done something, at least.

He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again. No way was he going to fall into a pit of self-hatred now. Kel needed him, at least to watch over the infection to keep it from getting worse. Neal grabbed the healing serums he kept handy and began applying them to the wound again, as he had done, almost religiously, every twenty minutes over the last three hours. That finished, he leaned back again, taking a deep breath. ::Come on, Queenscove. Got to keep yourself busy, somehow.:: If he didn't keep his mind occupied, it would began to spin out horrible future scenarios, all of a world without Kel, the second-ever lady knight and his closest friend. He cast about for something that would be more productive than worrying.

Finding nothing, his gaze settled on Kel again. Gods, was it only this morning that they had been teasing each other before breakfast? Had he even said goodbye to her before she rode out? Had he mentioned, oh, the casual fact that she was his best friend in the world and he'd be heartbroken if she was gone from it?

No. No, he hadn't. Of course he hadn't. Because he was an idiot, who took friendships – and even life – for granted. He sighed.

He found himself breathing in unison with Kel as he watched her form, beneath the blankets, rise and fall. In…out. In…out. Somehow, it comforted him to breathe along with her. It gave him a sense of security: that no matter what happened, she would breathe, as long as he kept breathing alongside her.

In…out. In…out. In…in…in…Neal found himself struggling to keep the captured air in his lungs as Kel was doing…out. Why was she breathing so irregularly? It was hard for him to inhale and exhale in unison with her if she kept holding her breath. At last, she inhaled. In…out. In…out.

Out. Out. Neal waited for the next breath to come, but it didn't. He stared at Kel's ribs, waiting for them to expand, but they didn't. His brain starving for lack of oxygen, still he waited until he could stand it no longer; finally, he gasped in a gulp of air. But Kel's torso still hadn't risen. Neal sat in his spot for a full minute before his mind processed what this meant. He rushed closer to check her pulse. It was rapid – too rapid, going too fast for him to count, when suddenly it slowed. A lot. Too much.

Neal didn't take time for conscious thought. The one remnant of an idea left in his mind was a scroll he had once read, of all things. The scroll had been detailing the Great Sweating Sickness of Corus and how Page Alan had dove into Death to save Prince Jonathan, who had fallen victim to it. The story had gone into immense depth about the heroic aspect involved, but only one phrase stuck in Neal's head now: "…dove into Death to save…"

There was no time for choices, or for the weighing of high risks. The split-second decision had already been made.

He plunged into Death after her.

(**A/N**: Woah. Ever have a story that you intend to end one way and then it completely takes a different turn as the result of multiple cans of Mountain Dew and too much chocolate? Yeah, that's what happened with this story. Sorry to leave you all on a cliffhanger, I know how much you guys hate that, but I really thought it was effective. - Keep that in mind, reviewer dears, when you're berating me for it. I drew inspiration from the "throwing himself in after her" bit quite a lot from Briar's Book, also by Tammy. If you've read it, you'll know what I mean.

Eh heh heh heh. You know you've always wanted Kel to die...- Review!)

Adios.)

(Also: I'm no doctor or anything, so if the pulse thing wouldn't be how someone dies, well…er…that's the way it goes for Kel.)


	6. Merric is traumatized

(A/N: Look guys, I did it! It's finally here! The sixth chapter!

Yes, Rie, your imagination vibes did work!

Some notes—I reeeeally don't like the beginning of this chapter. I don't like the dialogue, I'm still wondering about the introduction of a certain blue-eyed buffed-up hot King's Own solder, etc. etc. But, it _was_ fun traumatizing my favorite redhead, the Merric we all know and love. Can you guys tell how hyped up on Mountain Dew I am?

Also—in case you couldn't tell, I basically stole the whole Death setting from the first Alanna book. Heh. That, and all the characters, are **Tammy's**. The only thing that is mine is the plot, which isn't worth much…::cries::

Hope you enjoy it!)

Merric paced outside the infirmary, arguing with himself on whether to push open the innocent-looking oak door. ::_There's no reason for you to go in there_,:: he told himself firmly. ::_No reason whatsoever. Kel's fine, Neal's fine, and they'll be much better off if we don't go bashing in there interrupting things. No. We are not going in there. No. Absolutely not. It will not do any good whatsoever_.::

And yet despite his firm convictions against it, he still found himself shifting from foot to foot nervously outside the entrance. He DID want to go in, just to make sure Kel hadn't gotten worse; the niggling worry in his mind had begun to consume him until he desperately wanted to check on the both of them every five minutes. But there was no real REASON to go in there! Surely if he did, he would be doing more harm then good!

"Oh, gods curse it," he muttered, and entered.

The infirmary was dim in the dusky light, and Merric stopped for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He wondered why Neal hadn't bothered to turn on a lantern. Maybe he had gotten so caught up in his healing that he hadn't noticed anything else? Merric wouldn't put it past him.

He smiled, rather wryly, when he saw Neal's drooping head and his lanky form sprawled out, almost protectively, over Kel's unconscious one. He knew the worn-out healer would succumb to sleep sooner or later. And better that he had quit fighting it, really…it would be better for both him and Kel when he awakened with a good rest under his belt.

Speaking of Kel…Merric traveled closer to the cot. In the dim light, it was hard to see her features. In fact, in the dark, lying so still like that, she looked almost—

Merric shivered as a chill rolled up and down his spine. Curse those irrational fears of his! Of course Kel was still alive. ::_Look_::, he told himself, more to quench his worry than anything else. ::_I can even prove she's still breathing_.:: He gently picked up Neal's arm, flung out over Kel's torso, by the sleeve, moving it to lay beside her on the cot. This way, he could watch Kel's ribs as they gently rose and fell. Except—

He frowned. Was the light playing tricks on him, or was her chest completely still? No—it couldn't be. He got closer and hesitantly laid a hand on top of her sternum. It rested there, completely immobile. Merric's eyes widened. Kel wasn't breathing.

He half-turned. "Neal!" he yelped, "Neal, something's gone wrong with Kel! You've got to help! Neal—" Reaching out, he shook Neal's shoulder, and stopped. Neal was cold, almost as cold to the touch as the metal frame that formed the chair he sat in. Merric struggled to breathe—no, not Neal too—

He stood up and began to stumble toward the door, his mind feeling as if it had been stuffed with cotton. But Neal had been fine when he last had seen him—he had been laughing, even—

Merric somehow made it out of the infirmary. Something had to be done—someone, surely someone could help them. Surely they couldn't be dead…

He didn't know how long he stood in front of the infirmary, shaking like mad, before he realized – Alanna. Everyone and his mother knew that she was one of the most powerful healers in Tortall, and Neal was her former squire – she'd come back, to save Neal. Merric walked faster and faster, until he was nearly sprinting – a dangerous thing in his unbalanced state.

He was so intent on his task that he didn't see the person in his path until the impact sent him sprawling. A callused hand helped him up, and Merric looked up a scant inch into concerned blue eyes.

Domitan of Masbolle, resplendent in his King's Own uniform, had worry written all over his face as he looked at the pale, sweating Merric. "Sir Merric, are you all right?" he asked slowly. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"Dom!" Merric rasped, grabbing Dom's shoulders. "You've got to help me. I need Lady Alanna!"

"But – why? What's wrong?"

"It's Kel and Neal!" Merric explained, exasperated. Why was Dom being so thick? Couldn't he see that the more time he wasted, the less chance that either of them would ever talk to Kel and Neal ever again? "I walked in – in the infirmary, and they were – dead."

A flurry of emotions made their way over Dom's features, ranging first from disbelief, then to shock, and finally to deep anguish. "Dead? But – how?" he stammered.

Merric shook his head restlessly. "It doesn't matter!" he said urgently. "Lady Alanna's the only one that can help; you have to summon her, quickly!"

Confusion and worry still clouding his eyes, Dom nodded slowly. "Right. Right," he said with more conviction, turning and jogging toward his horse. "I'll be back!" he called, kicking his gallant palomino into a gallop and racing past the rest of his squad, who stood, mouths agape. Merric, knees suddenly weak with fatigue and relief, collapsed on the dirt path.

_(A/N: Sorry for that crappy introduction. Here's the part we've all been waiting for: the interaction between Kel and Neal! _

_In the beginning, when Kel's just walking along, tra-la-la, she's only unconscious. As she's falling, she's dying. Thought I'd establish that.)_

Kel walked along a convoluted pathway near a dark, brooding forest. Though the path was rocky and her feet unshod, she felt no pain as she dreamily stepped through the rough dirt. The sky above her was a cerulean blue; a gentle breeze weaved its way through her hair. Funny how the day had turned so beautiful, considering it had been drizzling when—

She stopped abruptly. How had she gotten here, anyway? The last thing she remembered was…the heart-wrenching sight of Neal's worried eyes as she strode out into battle. And if she had been killed in battle (she gulped), shouldn't she be in the Realms of the Dead by now?

"Hello!" she yelled, voice cracking slightly in desperation. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

The only answer was the wind rustling through the branches of the nearby pine trees. Kel sighed, feeling desolate. She began to slowly walk again. Maybe there'd be a sign of civilization once she got past these dratted trees.

Turning a corner in the path, she suddenly stumbled and fell – and kept falling. Gone were the forest and the rocky path; instead, she plummeted down a deep, dark well, an intense pain consuming her shoulder and side. Screaming and wailing could be heard all around her; the sound sent shivers down her spine. Still she fell as unseen hands grabbed at her? Was this hell, she wondered, to be forever falling in a bottomless pit of doom and despair?

Suddenly, she hit a stone floor; the wind was violently expelled from her lungs. She shakily got to her feet and looked around, rubbing her burning shoulder. Dank, moldy stone walls surrounded her on all sides. A cold wind abruptly blew through her, freezing her soul. She turned slowly – and saw a cowled figure standing silently a few yards away. She gulped. If this was the Black God, she was going to be very dead, very soon.

He moved toward her, and Kel was startled to feel tears prick at the back of her eyes. She had planned on so much, and now she would have no chance to live out her goals, to see her dreams. All at the hands of some gods-curst Scanrans…

She bowed her head so that the Black God wouldn't see the tears trickling down her cheeks. Closing her eyes, she heard him approach closer and closer – felt the shift in the air as he reached toward her—

With her eyes closed, she missed the flash of green light that briefly illuminated the well, but she did hear a familiar voice yell, "NO!" Her eyes snapped open in time to see a tall, dark-haired youth appear, bracing himself protectively between the Black God's skeletal hand and Kel.

She looked at him, flabbergasted. "Neal!" she managed to choke out. "What—how—why—you don't belong here!"

He turned to look at her for a split second. "Neither do you," he replied quietly, then swiveled to face the Black God. "You can't take her," he said firmly. The figure cocked its head, obviously unused to refusal. Neal continued hurriedly. "Just look at her. She's the second-ever Lady Knight in the realm…the Protector of the Small!" he said, obviously remembering Irnai the seer girl's proclamation some three years before. "She has goals to achieve, people to save…it is not her time," he finished, panting slightly. As an afterthought, he added, "If you must…take me instead."

The Black God studied the two of them for a long moment, then nodded once. Kel felt herself involuntarily rising above the stone floor, back towards the distant light of Life. Below her, she saw the small figures of the Black God and Neal. As the Black God reached for her friend, she dimly realized what he had meant when he said "Take me instead." A sudden, sickening fear filled her then, worse even than when the Black God was reaching for _her_. "Wait!" she yelled back down the well, frantically trying to stop herself from continuing to rise. "You can't take him! It's not his time either!" Neither Neal nor the Black God gave any sign of hearing her, however, and she continued to ascend, scrabbling at the dripping stone walls to no avail. "NO!" she yelled, her voice echoing desperately one last time before she was gone.

Neal waited, breath held, as the Black God turned toward him and reached out a black-robed arm. He suddenly remembered that in rescuing Kel, he had used up the last of his Gift that provided his life force. His green eyes widened.

Unlike Kel, he did not bow his head or close his eyes as he waited to die. Instead, he faced his fate, reminding himself that he had died for a worthy cause. Better Kel live than he; the world had more need of her.

The hand creeped closer, and Neal felt a wave of cold fear wash through him. He swallowed and stared down the Black God, knowing that despite everything, he did feel a tinge of regret. If only things had turned out differently…

A slightly familiar voice shattered the silence, making Neal jump and the Black God draw his hand back into his sleeve. _No,_ the voice sighed. Neal blinked. Hearing the voice had thrown him back into his thoughts, into memories of stone doors, seer children, and visions that had haunted him for months on end. Coming back into the present, he frowned. It was so familiar, and yet he couldn't place it…

_No, you cannnot take him, either_, said the voice, chilling him down to his bones. The Black God must have replied silently, because it went on: _Cousin, I am aware that mortal affairs have little to do with our kind. But can you not see they are important?_ Pausing for a moment, it then continued, _The Protector of the Small has not yet fulfilled her life's destiny, and he_--there was no question of who the voice referred to--_must help her along the way. Without him, she will fail. If she fails, the balance fails. You must let him go._

Resigned, the Black God looked at Neal. He nodded. The voice spoke again, in Neal's own head. _I have aided you this once, but do not expect to tempt Death again, mortal. I can only input so much, and he does _not_ appreciate his work being undone before his very eyes._

Neal tried to reply, but his throat felt as if it had closed of its own accord. Finally, he stammered out, "Who—_what_ are you?"

Later, he could have sworn there was a touch of amusement in that cold voice. _Ask your Protector of the Small_, it said. _She will know_.

With this last thought, Neal began to rise. He turned his face up to the hazy light up ahead, thanking the gods—one in particular—that he had received a second chance.

(**A/N**: Actually, I didn't mean to end this chapter here, but it just kept going on and on as I continued it, so I decided to cut it off. Did you like the whole Death scene? This was more of a fill-in chapter, I know…sighs Don't worry, we'll get to the fluff eventually.

About the Tobe/Loey thing, YES, I am working on it! Give me time, thou impatient ones!

See ya.)


	7. Confrontation

(A/N: Okay guys, look, I updated! Since Spring Break is coming up, expect

more frequent updates…also look for the very special Tobe/Loey fic! I actually haven't decided on a title yet…you guys can help me out with that…

In the beginning, here, just imagine Neal as being a bit hung over. Poor baby. I guess that's what happens when you dive into Death to save your best friend.

Also, I really don't like the dialogue when Neal gets in a catfight with…well…you'll see, but I'm just leaving it the way 'tis so I can update this ASAP. I might revise it later. -

**Disclaimer**: Everything belongs to Tammy cept the plot, etc. etc. Is this really necessary?)

Neal was first aware of light—glaring, obnoxious light, shining through his closed lids and calling him back from unconsciousness. Every muscle in his body ached. Opening his eyes slowly, he was immediately hit with a pounding headache. Needless to say, he shut them again. "Errrgh…" he groaned, eyes still closed, cursing the sunlight that shone so cheerily in through the inconveniently placed windows in the infirmary. Damned sunshine. Damned cheeriness.

"'Errgh' is right," retorted a sharp voice. Neal wrenched his eyelids open and sat up, ignoring the swamping pain centering on his sinuses. He shaded his face from the sunlight, hoping that it was Kel that sat at his bedside and expecting perhaps to look into her long-lashed hazel eyes. Instead, he met the harsh cerulean ones of a very pale Merric. Neal winced and prepared himself for the worst. Sure enough, Merric didn't let him down.

"What were you DOING?" he demanded. "Are you some kind of—idiot that doesn't know how to STOP himself from doing INCREDIBLY STUPID THINGS?" He took a breath, then continued his tirade. "Do you have ANY IDEA what it was like to come in here and find my two BEST FRIENDS DEAD in each others' ARMS?! DO YOU?!"

Neal opened his mouth for a minute, then closed it again, noticing that despite Merric's apparent rage, his cheeks were ashen and his eyes looked haunted. "Merric…I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean…"

Merric, panting, looked slightly sheepish after finishing his rant. "Well…that's all right, I suppose," he said finally. "Just don't scare me like that again. EVER."

Neal grinned shakily. "Agreed." He levered his aching body off the edge of the cot, stretching in his chair. "How long was I out?" he asked, wincing as his spine cracked.

"I'm not sure," came the reply. "It was nearly dusk when I came in and found you and Kel…"

Memory hit Neal in the stomach like an errant lance manned by Raoul of Goldenlake. "Kel…where is she?" he asked, panicked, suddenly realizing that the cot that had held Kel was empty. "She didn't…die, did she?" His head swam as he considered the possibility.

Merric's eyes cleared. "No," he said, laughing slightly at Neal's wild, fearful expression. "No," he said again, "She's in there." He pointed to the door that separated Neal's office from the rest of the infirmary. In response to Neal's odd, querying look, he said, "Lady Alanna's working on her in there. She thought they'd have more privacy if—"

"Lady Alanna? But—why? How?" Neal asked, utterly perplexed.

Merric grinned and ran a hand over his curls self-consciously. "I kind of went crazy when I found you two…you know…so I told the first person I saw to summon Lady Alanna. "I thought, well, she IS the most powerful healer I know of…"

Neal rolled his eyes. "Great. My former knight-master gets to be present for my very own death _and_ rebirth. I'm sure she'll be terribly pleased with me."

Merric cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, she won't chide you _too _badly, I'm sure…after all, you _did_ save the realm's second Lady Knight; she has to hold that in some esteem."

Neal shook his head mournfully. "You'll be lucky to find me hanging on to life by a thread after she's through with me," he said, getting up rather unsteadily to head toward the office.

"I wouldn't go in there just yet," Merric called after him. "Lady Alanna doesn't like to be distracted."

Neal pointedly ignored him, continuing on his wobbly way toward the door. "Well, don't say I didn't warn you," Merric muttered darkly.

---

Lady Alanna of Trebond and Olau, Sir Raoul of Goldenlake, and Domitan of Masbolle sat grouped around a cot with the sleeping Kel. Lady Alanna shone dimly with purple fire, one hand placed on Kel's forehead. "There," she said finally, leaning back. "I've burned out the infection. She should be fine." She stood up, legs gone stiff.

Raoul grinned shakily. "That's a load off my shoulders."

Dom stretched and cricked his neck. "What about Neal?" he asked, remembering the stubborn cousin who had lain so protectively over his best friend, even in their "deaths".

Alanna rolled her eyes. "I took a look at the idiot boy on our way in. He'll be fine, apart from some minor aches."

A voice sounded from the half-open door. "You only call them minor because you can't feel them," Neal drawled with a grimace. "Plus, why am I an 'idiot boy', as you so eloquently put it?"

Alanna whirled, eyes flashing, as Neal suddenly realized he'd given her the perfect opening. Sure enough, she took it.

"I referred to you as IDIOT BOY because that is EXACTLY what you are!" she yelled. Raoul's eyes darted to the sleeping Kel, and he and Dom immediately leapt up and tried to shush Alanna. "Get OFF of me, you IMBECILES!" They sat back down again. She continued, voice slightly—very slightly—softer, "What were you thinking? You can't just—just—treat death like a PLAYTHING! It's DEATH, for gods' sakes! You could have killed yourself AND Kel!"

Neal felt his temper rising slightly. "Might I remind you that Kel was already DEAD when I went in after her?" he asked, voice clipped from the effort of restraining his anger. "Or did Dom forget to mention that part?" Dom looked sheepish. "So you're suggesting that I should have just sat around humming a happy little tune whilst my, oh, best friend in the realm, died before my very eyes? Why, what a brilliant idea! Why didn't I think of that!" Bitter sarcasm crept into Neal's voice, and he stopped before he could anger Alanna any further. As it was, he wouldn't have been surprised to see acrid smoke creeping out from beneath her flame-red hair.

"Do NOT take that tone with me, boy," she hissed at him.

Neal snapped. "I will take whatever tone I WISH, Lady ALANNA," he hissed right back at her. "Oh, by the way, while you were preaching to me, did you stop to consider that you did the EXACT SAME DEED with PRINCE JONATHAN?"

Alanna looked faintly dumbstruck before pulling herself together and replying, "That was completely different. We had the GODDESS on our side, while you, you didn't even have the god of—"

"But we did," Neal interrupted. "Or were you so high and mighty that you didn't even stop to consider that even us lowly MALE knights can be aided by gods?"

She clearly didn't believe him. "Really," she said. "Which god would that be, then? The god of stupid actions? The god of, oh, I don't know, idiots? Take your pick!"

Neal was caught for a second. Who HAD that mysterious voice belonged to, anyway? As he frantically racked his memories, he stammered, "Ermm…"

"I knew it," Alanna scoffed. "More likely aided with spit and a fat lot of luck than a god—"

Suddenly, Neal felt an epiphany springing on him. Of course—hadn't their encounter with Irnai the seer girl three years past taught him anything? He recognized the voice now as the Chamber of the Ordeal. No wonder it had aided him—it was sort of Kel's patron god, after all, if you could call it that…it had aided her in the capture of Blayce, anyway…

"Try the _Chamber of the Ordeal_," Neal said triumphantly. He enjoyed the look of astonishment dawning in the redhead's eyes, not to mention the jaw-dropped expressions of Dom and Raoul sitting in the chairs beside her. "Oh, didn't Kel mention her little stint with the Chamber a few years ago? It put her on the quest to find Blayce. Guess it wasn't through with us, eh, Alanna?" He smirked at her. He'd show Alanna to jump down his throat!

"Well—" she said. "Well—I suppose—that's a bit different, if the CHAMBER—gods know I've never heard of—" Turning a bit crimson, she nodded finally. "Fine. Well. That still doesn't make it much better."

"He _did_ save Kel," Dom pointed out pertly. "Without much consequence on his part, it seems."

Alanna nodded grudgingly. "I suppose…" 

Raoul cut in. "Of course, that doesn't give Neal leave to go playing the Black God whenever he wishes…"

"Which I have NO intention of doing," Neal retorted. "This was a one-time thing, and only to save Kel."

"Fine," Dom said, clearly glad to get off the subject. "Alanna, you agree that Neal did right in saving Kel…" Alanna nodded again, eyes slightly narrowed. "And Neal, you agree never to do something THAT idiotic again." Neal frowned at the choice of words, but nodded anyway.

That through with, Neal pulled up a chair and plopped down in it. Alanna sat down as well. "So, how's she doing?" he asked, trying to get a better look at Kel.

"She should be fine. I burned off most of the infection. She just needs to sleep for a while, to give her body a chance to rest," Alanna replied.

"I'll keep vigil," Neal volunteered. "You know, so that someone will be there when she wakes."

Alanna looked ready to argue again, but resigned herself to saying, "Fine, but as soon as you feel yourself tiring, let one of us know. Don't forget that she isn't the only one who died."

"Fair enough," Neal replied, and settled himself more comfortably in the hard wooden chair.

Alanna, Raoul, and Dom got up, with only Dom looking over his shoulder at the cot as they exited the too-small room.

Neal leaned back in his chair, studying Kel's sleeping face. The color had returned to her cheeks and lips, and she looked healthier. He felt a wave of relief wash over him gently.

It would be a long wait, but he was willing to wait it out, to be there when she awoke.

(A/N: I know, I know what you alllll are thinking. Well, most of you. "WHEN THE HELL ARE WE GOING TO GET TO THE GOOD STUFF! THE PART WHEN NEAL AND KEL INTERACT! COME ON WOMAN!"

My answer to that is—okay, okay, keep your pants (skirts) on!

And review.)


	8. Confessions and interruptions

(**A/N**: Checkitout, guys, two updates in ONE WEEK! I'm so proud of myself. Probably because it's spring break, but still. Go me!

You guys are so cruel about the Kel's-not-awake-yet business. I'm trying, here! Give me a break! ::glare::

::over it:: But seriously, isn't it better this way then for it to go like "Hi, I'm Neal." "Hi, I'm Kel." "Wanna make out?" "Sure!" kind of thing?

Okay, maybe I'm wrong, and you guys are right. Hope you enjoy this chapter. YOU HAD BETTER ENJOY THIS CHAPTER, KNAVES!

::ahem:: Sorry. Little too much caffeine. Frappuccinos will be my undoing someday…but not today. Bwahaha.

By the way—woah, we're back to Kel's perspective after what, three? Four chapters? I think I like Neal's perspective better. Hmmph. Gods know I adore omniscient third person…allowing me to get into everyone's heads…::evil grin::

Also, in the beginning, Kel's just gotten sent back up the little Well of Death…yes, I'm screwing with time again…

Uh-oh, MAJOR fluff alert in this chapter! I love fluff. Teehee.

--LQ)

When the darkness cleared from around her, Kel was back on the rocky path, away from the terror-ridden well and away from the heart-wrenching sounds of screams. Although she didn't feel her knees buckle in a combination of fear and relief, she did find her nose quite a bit closer to the ground than it had been a few seconds before. She shifted, the rocks biting into her knees—she stopped. Picking up a stone experimentally, she drove it into her smooth wrist. It stung, and she yelped in pain and exasperation. Staring at the offending stone, she rubbed the spot on her now-scraped wrist, lost in thought.

Hadn't she been walking on this path before without any pain at all? Kel stood up shakily, feeling her ribs and shoulder burn as she moved. She put a hand to them and saw no blood, but felt the gentle weight of her palm sent stabs of pain into her middle. Wincing, she moved her hand away.

Looking around, she found the scene no different than it had been before she had fallen into Death. The Black God had agreed to let her live, hadn't he? If she was alive, then where was this? Her dreams? Was this all just some fabrication of her imagination?

No—it couldn't be. For Neal had been there as well; he wasn't part of a dream, she was sure of it…Kel took a quick intake of breath. Neal—no. She suddenly remembered his deal with the Black God—his life in exchange for hers. Feeling her eyes suddenly flood with tears, she dropped back down onto her knees, scrabbling. She had to get back there, had to tell that reaper of souls not to take her best friend away from her…she couldn't live a life knowing that Neal had sacrificed his own in exchange for it…gods, she couldn't live a life without Neal, period…

She continued searching for the entryway into Death, to no avail. Frustrated, she slammed her fists into the gravel, feeling the sharp rocks cut into her hands. She felt the emotions of the past few—hours? days?—build up inside of her—all the fear, the pain, the anger, the worry—and boil over. "Can you hear me?!" she yelled to the ground. In the farthest corner of her mind, the part of her that still retained its rationality, she knew there was no point in screaming, but the rest of her ignored it. "Can you hear me, you—you—beast? Filthy, loathsome creature, who takes pleasure in ruining—people's—lives—" With each of these last words, she hit her fists on the ground again, her tears falling freely to make dark spots next to the spatters of blood beginning to leak from her palms. Finally, she collapsed, exhausted. Laying her cheek on the rough dirt, she sobbed for Neal and for the life she faced without him.

She didn't know how long she lay there, her tears finally drying on her cheeks—what was time in this place, anyway? Nothing ever changed here…it was quite peaceful, really…of course, there could be no happiness here, but there would be no sadness, either…no men that tore your heart out as they lusted after blonde bimbos, no friends to get worried sick over, no responsibilities…

She lay there, breathing shallowly, feeling numbness wash over her. What was the point of getting up again? She had nothing to look forward to, not with her best friend gone, and the responsibility for his death resting on her shoulders. She inhaled the smell of the dirt and the stones, trying to forget the last time she'd seen his pleading emerald eyes.

Purple fire suddenly flashed out of the corner of her eye, and she rolled over onto her back. Frowning, she sat up slowly, noticing considerably less pain in her side. She looked down and gaped. Violet flames gathered around her ribs and shoulder, easing the pain. Kel touched her ribs gingerly; the pain was still present, but it no longer burned its way through her senses. Instead, it was a dull ache.

"Alanna…" Kel said aloud, recognizing the color of the fire. "But…"

Suddenly, her world rocked. Kel gasped and put one hand to her head. It throbbed, making her dizzy. She grasped the dirt behind her, trying to anchor herself to something solid, but her vision still grew dark at the edges. The trees, grass, and blue sky surrounding her began to grow fuzzy. Just before she blacked out, she thought she heard thunder.

--

Kel ached.

Her ribs, her shoulder, even her muscles pounded fiercely. It hurt to move. Gods, it even hurt to breathe…she moaned and moved her head slightly, expecting to feel sharp rocks jutting into her spine. Instead, she discovered that she lay on a soft, comfortable surface. "What…?" she mumbled, opening one eye.

Dim light streamed through a slatted window, illuminating a desk piled high with papers and doodles of what looked vaguely like shields and horses. Quills and half-finished scrolls lined the floor surrounding the desk; a lone inkbottle tipped its contents over an important-looking document with the King's seal marking it. Looking around, Kel recognized the office of the infirmary. The small room was crammed with chairs, but only the one closest to her cot was occupied: a long, lanky young man dozed, his chin resting on his hand.

In the poor light, it was hard to see his features. Kel craned her neck, trying to guess his identity, but the movement sent stabs of pain up and down her back. She inhaled sharply, trying not to cry out.

The figure stirred at the slight noise and opened his eyes. From what Kel could see of him, his gaze looked bemused as he looked around him. His eyes settled on her, and he grinned, albeit shakily. "Kel! You're awake!" He moved into the light, and she recognized—Neal?

A flurry of emotions passed through her: shock, knee-trembling relief, worry, anger…"Neal!" she croaked out. "Gods, Neal…" She struggled to sit up, ignoring the fierce pain the action caused. Finally, she forced herself to lean against the headboard, biting her tongue with the effort it took not to yelp in pain.

A cool hand brushed her forehead, sending chills of relief down her spine. She had been so worried that she would never look into his green eyes again, never again hear his witty banter, never again listen to his vocal daydreams…she was so lost in thought, she didn't hear his question. "Sorry?"

"Where does it hurt?" She looked up, startled, to see Neal's eyes frank with worry. She shifted and winced.

"My ribs, mostly, and my shoulder…but it's not that bad, you don't have to—"

Neal cut her off. "My dear Kel, haven't you learned that you needn't be perfect?" His voice was soft and teasing. "All this charging off to protect people, and this stoic warrior business…" As he spoke, he laid a long-fingered hand as gently as possible on her side. Green fire shimmered, and Kel felt coolness replace the ache. She sighed contentedly. Now that the nerve-wracking pain that had gripped her mind was gone, she felt a million questions resurface.

"Neal—how did you get in Death? And how did _I_?"

Neal's grin faded, leaving behind a somber look in its place. "You had just ridden off into battle," he said. His expression looked…faded, somehow, to Kel, as if he had just aged twenty years in the last few minutes. "I was sitting there, fuming, when Tobe ran up and said you needed help. So I went out to go get you."

Kel barely managed to keep from berating him about disobeying his orders. After all, he had saved her life…better broken orders than her own broken body, if worst came to worst…

He continued. "You were just about to pass out when I got out there, so I brought you back to the infirmary and started to heal you. It went all right at first, but you had cuts in your ribs and shoulder, and they were deep. I got distracted,"—his cheeks went slightly red, for some reason—"And they got infected. And then you—you—died." His voice cracked very slightly on the last syllable, and he rested his forehead in his fingertips.

She gulped—it wasn't every day that one heard the story of her own death, after all—and prodded him to continue. "And how did you get into Death?"

His voice was muffled from within his hands. "I dove in after you."

Kel's mouth fell open. "You. Dove. In. After me." He nodded. "Why in the GODS' NAMES—"

He looked up at her, revealing wide eyes that were made greener by their slightly bloodshot quality. "I was scared, all right?!" he half-confessed, half-yelled. "I was scared that you'd be gone forever, and I couldn't risk losing you. The thought of Death wasn't half as frightening as the thought of living without you." As he spoke, his voice grew in volume. "I'm SICK of people yelling at me for this! You're my best friend, Kel, and I'm never going to let you die without me, no matter what you or anyone else says to try and stop me!" He stopped, then added, "Understand?!"

She was at a loss for words. The silence in the room grew thicker as she grew lost in her own thoughts. Neal had basically made the ultimate sacrifice for her, and she had repaid him by losing her temper. He had put his own life at risk in order to rescue hers, not knowing whether he would live to see the next day. She had never known anyone before that was, quite literally, willing to die for her.

Finally, she reached out a trembling hand to put it on Neal's shoulder gently. He looked up at the touch. "Sorry, Neal," she apologized softly. "I do appreciate it…you have no idea how much this means…to have someone die for me…"

He watched her for a second, and she sighed in relief as the ice in his eyes melted as he looked at her own wide hazel ones. He smiled crookedly and ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stand at odd angles. "It's all right," he admitted softly. "I guess the stress finally spilled over." Seeing Kel continue to look at him, worried he might still be vexed with her, he continued, "I wasn't thinking much when I went after you. The thought that you might not be alive to see morning—well, it kind of drove me crazy for a while."

"I know what you mean," Kel agreed. "When I saw you in Death, I thought you had died, too…I didn't want to come back to a world you weren't in."

Neal raised an eyebrow and smiled in a way that made her stomach lurch. She frowned as she felt her heart skip a beat, and thought, ::_What on earth? Must be some remnant of that trip into Death_…:: She realized he was speaking, and tore her mind off of her suddenly rebellious internal organs.

"Don't worry, Kel," he said, smiling. "I'll always be here for you, no matter if I have to go through Death and back to get to you."

She smiled back, feeling warmth wash over her. They locked eyes, and Kel found her face moving closer to his. She dimly wondered how that had happened. "Thanks, Neal," she said softly.

"Think nothing of it," he said teasingly, and leaned in slightly…

Suddenly, the door slammed open. Kel and Neal, realizing that their noses were only scant inches apart, jerked away from each other. "Kel!" Dom said, delighted. "You're awake!" Half turning, he yelled through the open door, "She's awake!" Seeing that Neal and Kel were both eye-smarting shades of crimson, he asked, perplexed, "What's wrong with you two?"

"Nothing…" Neal muttered, and scooted away from the edge of the cot. "I should go get you some painkillers, Kel…" he mumbled, and got up to leave.

Kel watched him go, barely noticing that Dom had sat down in Neal's place. What had just happened between them? And was it a bad thing that she wished it would happen again, soon?

(A/N: I just have one thing to say to you all:

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Sorry. Had to get the evil laugh out of my system. Too much fluff makes Kathleen go crazy.

If this fic had a soundtrack, a sappy Michelle Branch song would be playing right now. Think "Find my way back to you", "All You Wanted," or "Everywhere". Yeah.

Go review now.)


	9. Denial

(A/N: Um…you guys are probably going to hate me for this chapter…hehe…no, I'm not a Dom fan…obviously…

That's pretty much all I wanted to say. I loved the reactions I got out of you with the little eensy bit of KN fluff, which we all love of course. This chapter may undergo some renovations. Maybe.

And, for the first time ever, reviewer thank-yous at the bottom! yayyyyy!)

Neal paced in his chambers on the opposite end of the infirmary, hair standing up at wild angles all over his scalp. "Idiot…" he muttered to himself as he walked back and forth, unaware that the sound of his overly expressed footfalls was making the decorative paintings in the hall tremble slightly. "She is your best friend, just came out of Death, and you were going to kiss her?! What were you thinking?!"

Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door. "Come IN," he said irritably, more angry with himself than the visitor. Merric stuck his coppery head in.

"Neal…are you all right?" he asked, peering at him a little warily. "Did I hear you talking to someone?"

Neal blushed. "No," he muttered, a bit embarrassed to have been overheard. "Just…thinking aloud, I suppose."

"Oh…all right then," Merric said, still frowning. He stepped inside the doorframe. "I'm going to go visit Kel…d'you want to come?" He watched, interested, as even more color rose to Neal's cheeks.

"No…" he demurred, "She's probably a bit tired of me; we already talked earlier."

"Oh," Merric said, obviously not entirely convinced. "I'll just…go, then," he said warily, wondering why Neal, as Kel's best friend, hadn't jumped at the chance to see her again, even if he had already talked to her. Almost out of the room, he turned around again. "Hey, Neal," he began, "If there's anything you need to talk about, you know…I'll be around."

Neal gave him a crooked smile. "Thanks, Merric, but I'm fine."

Brow still furrowed, Merric exited, deep in thought.

Inside, Neal resumed his pacing, this time keeping his debate with himself inside his head. If, hypothetically, he DID have feelings for Kel (which he did most certainly NOT, he reminded himself adamantly), what gave him the faintest idea that she returned those (hypothetical) feelings? She had certainly been friendly toward him, but why not? They were best friends—and speaking of, what was he thinking anyway? Kel thought of him as a brother—gods, up until a few weeks ago he'd thought of her as his sister! He couldn't be in love with his best friend!

That was it, then, Neal thought, jaw set grimly. Any time he even…vaguely entertained the very IDEA of having feelings for Kel from here on out, he would immediately dispel the notion from his mind. He had to keep their relationship strictly on a friendship-only level. No matter if she DID look positively alluring sometimes, what with those big, irresistible hazel eyes with their long lashes—gods curse it, he was doing it again!

He cursed softly and sank into a cushioned chair, his head sinking into his hands. He couldn't do this. Gods, he couldn't do this. No matter how many times he told himself firmly that he was not, not, NOT going to think about her in THAT way, little images of Keladry of Mindelan kept creeping into his mind. The way she grinned even in the heat of battle…that enchanting, impatient charm she had…the way her sun-streaked hair fell into her eyes…oh, curse it, curse it, curse it! He groaned in frustration and walked over to his bed, flopping on the soft mattress. Pulling the unadorned pillow over his head, he resolved to clear all thoughts, ESPECIALLY those of a certain attractive lady knight, completely out of his head.

---

Kel lay in her cot, smiling absently at Dom and Merric as they talked at her. Though from their point of view, she knew she must look captivated with…whatever story or such they were telling, but her mind was another place entirely. Had Neal tried to kiss her an hour ago, or were her idle fantasies just spawning offspring yet again?

She quickly corrected herself mentally: not that she HAD fantasies about that sort of thing! Neal was her best friend. He was her one constant in life: no matter what odd paths she took, she knew that she could always turn to him for support. Hadn't he said as such, a scant hour ago? She could always count on him to be her best friend—nothing more, nothing less, with emphasis on the "nothing more".

Still—what had he—no, what had THEY almost done? One minute Kel had been talking to him as normal; the next, she had found herself drowning in those endless green eyes. Even thinking about it now sent shivers rolling up and down her spine, no matter how many times she told herself it was because of the cold draft from the window. She couldn't let this go on. It might ruin their friendship, and that would be a fate worse than death. Better to keep her (possible) feelings in and retain Neal's friendship than reveal her thoughts and lose him forever. She couldn't risk that.

But how long was she going to be able to keep up the act? Gods, her heart jumped every time she envisioned how close his face had been to hers. When—how—WHY had this happened? Up until today, she'd been able to keep from turning red every time she thought of him!

::But you still thought of him::, replied a traitorous voice from deep within her. ::You get jealous every time he likes some shallow court wench, even though you say you're just being protective. You were devastated when you thought he was dead. Face it, Kel. You've loved him since you were both pages. You were just too idiotic to realize it until now.::

Kel felt her cheeks warm as she digested this errant thought. Determined to prove it wrong, she shoved it into the back of her mind told herself to focus on Merric and Dom. They had been talking all this time, describing something about Lord Raoul and a particularly bad-tempered barmaid.

She looked up to find Dom's eyes disconcertingly on her. She glimpsed an odd warmth in them just before he looked away, pretending to be extremely interested in a plump bluebird outside the window. She trained her gaze on him, brow furrowed. Could Dom—no. It couldn't be. Gods knew that he hadn't shown any sign of returning her ardor when she had been a new squire with an enormous attraction to him. Thankfully, she had gotten over him during her second year as a knight—a good thing, too, because another look into those endless blue eyes would have driven her crazy.

Still, would it be so hard to dredge up her long-discarded feelings for Dom? He WAS awfully attractive, though a bit lacking in the intelligence department—nothing, of course, compared to Ne—she immediately halted that line of thought, forcing herself to focus. Would it be quite so bad to be attracted to Dom again? If he happened to return her feelings, all the better, and at the very least, she would be distracting herself from envisioning…a certain person.

"Kel…?" A voice interrupted her thoughts, making her start slightly. She looked up again to see both Dom and Merric's eyes trained on her.

"Hmm?" she asked, feeling a slight blush rise to her cheeks.

"Kel, have you heard a single word we just said?" Merric asked, half-smiling. "Or were you just daydreaming this entire time?"

Rather than deny it, Kel closed her eyes, covering them with one hand. "I'm sorry, Merric…I'm having trouble staying focused today." She uncovered her eyes and grinned sheepishly at them. "Sorry. Again."

The mirth in Merric's chestnut eyes was replaced by concern. "Are you tired? Should we leave? Do you need to sleep?" he asked, brow furrowed in ill-masked worry.

Before Kel had even answered, he had stood up. "Call us if you need anything, anything at all. Don't let idiots like us tire you out," he admonished, the perfect picture of a mother fussing over a sick child. "We'll be around." He headed for the door.

Dom lingered behind, glancing at the open door nervously. "You really did have us all worried, Kel," he said quietly, blue eyes sober.

She smiled crookedly back at him, telling herself that she should feel her stomach lurch at the closeness of him. She felt a slight rumbling as it digested her last meal, but other than that, nothing. Curse it. "Sorry," she said, Yamani face masking her frustrations. "I'll try not to let it happen again."

"Good," he said softly, sitting down on the mattress beside her hip. "Because I'd hate to lose you, Kel."

Kel was just considering this rather odd statement of—flirtation? when she suddenly realized that his face was inches from her. She sighed inwardly. Well, if she was going to convince herself that Dom was the one for her, she might as well start now. She closed her eyes, trying her best to look simultaneously amorous and relaxed.

She could feel his soft, warm breath on her lips as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers. Suddenly, she realized that she was, basically, living out what were once her ultimate romantic fantasies, only about two years too late. She gritted her teeth and tried to concentrate on the kiss.

He wasn't a bad kisser, really—well, he had to be experienced, with all the lovers he'd taken in the King's Own. However, there was something a bit too mechanical about the way he explored the plush contours of her lips with his. It made her feel as if she was just another girl to check off the list of his possible conquests—as if he'd done this a thousand other times with a thousand other women, all as entranced by his eyes and his demeanor as she had been. Still, it was nice, being kissed, so she tried to enjoy it, even matching his heady warmth with some of her own.

A sound by the door made her eyes snap open and their heads yank apart. Kel found herself sending a quick prayer to the gods that it was just Jump or one of the many cats that roamed New Hope, being inquisitive as usual. ::Gods, let it just be Jump…::

Her heart dropped down to her stomach as she glimpsed a fleeting glance of rumpled brown hair and shocked, hurt green eyes. Before she could get another good look, though, the person standing in the doorway had rushed off down the corridor, leaving a horrified Kel in his wake.

(A/N: Look, guys! FLUFF!

Or was that the wrong ship….innocent smile How silly of me!

Don't kill me!!!

holds up arms protectively I swear. It's a KN fic! I just…you know…

Okay, I confess. I had writers' block. THE WRITERS' BLOCK MADE ME DO IT!

Flames will be used to make herbal tea. mmmm.

Review and I will love you.)

(Reviewer thank-yous!!

First off, a HUGE, enormous, absolutely grateful thank-you to the "regulars", so to speak: Shira, Anni, Jess, and Rica, who are always there to hear my raves about Neal (sigh), and Rie, who is my "kick-in-the-butt", as well as PsychoLioness13, Wake-Robin, lady-kitty, AJ 4EVA, Shayley Rain, Bella, Paparazzi, prettyfoot, Lady Asianath (thank you for the tip about steel, oops), Keladry of Queenscove, ossini, nuitnothing.

Also thank you to falcon, coolchick207, ducky and raj, Skysong Moonsword, and gurliegirl, who just started reviewing, which is really cool.

Special thanks to Seadragon for the giant cookie and lordfolken for his enormous review that made me happy before math class.

I think that's it!

phew Now you see why I don't do these every chapter.)


	10. Angst

(A/N: Wow, if I'd known the awesome review action I'd get from you guys, I would've had Kel kiss Dom a LONG time ago!  
  
Seriously, though, you guys are great. ;D  
  
Notes—yeah, I realized after the fourth chapter that Merric's eyes were blue...idiotic me. Oops.  
  
Also—Yes, it's predictable. Hopefully not too much so though, as Neal knew his feelings BEFORE Dom came round. Usually it's just "deny deny deny, oops I'm jealous, maybe I DO love Kel!" Stupid writers' block, though. ;P And no, it isn't poor Nealy's dream...sigh he's so misunderstood and angsty. ;D  
  
Just as a minor warning, Neal says "damned" a lot in this chapter. He's a very angry soul. Poor boy. I really do feel bad for him in this chapter...not much seems to be going right for him. So if he comes off as a jerk, which he does a little bit, just remember that he has a lot on his proverbial plate at the moment.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
--LQ)  
  
Neal walked down the corridor, so angry he could barely see. That harlot! That chit! That—woman! How dare she?! And with his own cousin, no less!  
  
His already long strides lengthened until he was nearly running down the corridor. He had been trying to be a good friend and gone to visit Kel, and this was the thanks he had been given! The oh-so-lovely sight of his best friend and his cousin, engaged in...certain activities! Oh, gods, what had he ever done to deserve this?  
  
His anger was gradually replaced by gloom as he dwelled on the sight. Gods, how he wished now that he had never gone! But after laying in his chambers for a while, he had decided to do the right thing and go and see his best friend after her "ordeal". A completely innocent act! When he had first seen them...well, kissing...he hadn't realized the identity of the couple; he had thought that he had walked in on the wrong room. But then he had caught a flash of wide hazel eyes...and he had known.  
  
He winced as he half-ran, thinking of the emotions that had hit him in the stomach then. Anger, shock, sadness, hurt, and jealousy had all combined when he had recognized Kel and Dom. And that look in her eyes when she had seen him had been the last straw. He had fled.  
  
Anger came back in a rush. Gods, damn it all! Kel for being so damned attractive and yet so...oblivious, Dom for having the nerve to kiss her (Neal flushed, livid, at the thought), and most of all himself, for being in love with his best friend in the first place.  
  
Breathing heavily, he didn't see Merric as he turned the corner, nearly bowling his redheaded friend over. He uncharacteristically didn't stop to help him, though, and continued on his furious way back to his chambers. Merric, brow furrowed, brushed himself off and followed him.  
  
Neal, unaware of his new shadow, slammed open his bedroom door and shut it firmly behind him, growling under his breath as he did so. "Curse it, curse it, curse it," he muttered like a mantra as he threw himself on his bedcovers facedown. He began to slam his fists down on the pillows as he mumbled, so that each "curse it" was punctuated by a thump.  
  
As he hit, though, he began to feel a bone-deep ache within his chest work its way to the surface. He didn't recognize the feeling—despair? heartbreak?—but it made him feel so weak, he didn't even have the strength even to be angry anymore. He lay his head down on the pillows and felt tears rise to the corners of his eyes. How had this happened? he wondered dimly. How did he go from being best friends and nothing more with someone, to crying over her and feeling like his heart would break, just because she was oblivious? How pathetic did that make him?  
  
He didn't hear the knock on the door, so the gentle touch on his shoulder made him jump nearly a foot from his dismal position on the blankets. Neal swiveled, breathing hard, hand held over his heart. "Merric," he gasped softly. "Don't—do—that!"  
  
Merric grinned unabashedly. "What are you so jumpy about?" he asked playfully. Peering at Neal's white face and red-rimmed eyes, he frowned. "Neal?" he asked slowly. "What—what's wrong?"  
  
Neal sat up, giving his best impression of a winning smile. "Nothing, absolutely nothing," he said. "Just—taking a rest! Because I'm—tired. Long day, you know." Merric's worried expression became mixed with disbelief as Neal suddenly realized that there were still tiny tear tracks spreading from his eyes. He swiped at the corners of them, exasperated, as Merric plunked down in the chair near his bed.  
  
"Come on, Neal," he said, not believing a word that Neal had spoken, "You and I both know something more is wrong. Kel is your best friend, yet you've barely said two words to her since she woke up. I haven't even seen you speak to Tobe since you came back, for all he's been hanging around, and you nearly flattened me in the corridor. What is going on?"  
  
Neal opened his mouth to lie again, then closed it. He flopped back on the mattress, eyes closed, as he heard himself say resignedly, with only the slightest tremor in his voice, "I walked in on Kel and Dom—ki-kissing."  
  
Merric inhaled, obviously surprised. "You—but—when?"  
  
"Just before I ran you over, actually," Neal said numbly, and gave a hollow laugh. It sounded fake to his own ears. "I thought I'd be a good friend, you know, wish her well and all that, but guess they had forgotten to shut the door in time!" Voice falsely cheery, but growing more bitter as he went on, he continued, "All's well that end's well for them, I guess, and they'll live happily ever after, and the wedding bells will ring!" His voice cracked at this last, and he stopped himself before he lost control of his vocal chords completely.  
  
"Neal." Something in Merric's tone made him snap his eyes open. "Neal, look at me." Merric stared at him with such an intensity that he seemed to be burning a hole in his forehead with his wide eyes. Realization began to dawn on his features. "You—you—" Neal swallowed and prepared himself for the inevitable; Merric was smart. Sure enough, Merric didn't disappoint him. "You don't—LIKE Kel—DO you?"  
  
Neal's uncomfortable silence was apparently enough affirmation for him, because his eyes widened even more and his jaw dropped. "You DO!" he exclaimed, darting a glance toward the door, then looking back at Neal incredulously. "But—Neal—I thought—WHY?"  
  
"I don't know, all right?!" Neal snapped raspily. When he saw the hurt written plainly on his redheaded friend's face, he regretted his outburst. "Sorry, Merric, it's just—I can't—I don't know what to do!" he said plaintively. As he went on, his voice got faster and his eyes more wild. "She's my best friend and I can't have feelings for her, I just CAN'T! So I tell myself that I won't think of her that way, I won't, but it never works, I always find myself picturing her eyes or her smile or her—I can't—I can't DO this!" His voice wound down creakily at the end of his monologue, and he rested his face in his hands.  
  
Merric, who had been silent the entire time, spoke up hesitantly. "Well—Neal—I suppose I know how you feel." Neal glanced at him beneath his fingers and raised an eyebrow. "Okay, well, maybe not so much," Merric amended, "But I would like to try to—help."  
  
Neal laughed hollowly. "There's not much you can do, is there? The girl I love, who happens to be my best friend, is in love with my cousin. Pretty sure that love is requited, because I just walked in on them kissing passionately." Merric started to speak, but Neal went on, voice rising slightly in decibel, "So unless you can somehow magically make Kel fall in love with me instead of Dom, I REALLY don't think there's anything you can help with!"  
  
Merric gave him a long, measured look, one that made Neal feel, if possible, even worse. "Merric, I—" he said, starting to apologize, but Merric crookedly half-smiled and stood. "I'm sorry you feel I can't help, Neal," he said, "But I'm glad at least that you told me." He stretched and walked toward the door, but turned back midway. "I'll be here if you need to talk some more," he added as a kind of peacemaker, then continued out the door.  
  
Neal debated whether to go after him, but discarded the idea. Instead, he lay back on the mattress and pulled one of the pillows over his face in what was getting to be an all-too-familiar action, feeling like one of the most inconsiderate people in the Eastern Lands.

  
  
A/N:  
  
I think I'll name this chapter "Angst".  
  
As a preview for next time, expect a fight! Midnight strolls! Er...another fight! Confessions!  
  
Cheese and crackers, I sound like a soap opera writer.  
  
Review. Please.  
  
I need reassurance that this chapter wasn't horrible. Not one of my favorites. I will definitely feel better (as will you all, I'm sure) when we get to the fluff. Cause who doesn't need a good dose of fluff?  
  
Adios— 

--L.Q. 


	11. Fights and epiphanies

**A/N:** Don't lecture me. Yessss, I know this has been forever in coming, but I have an excuse! First it was finals, then I had to take my SAT II for Bio, then, well, there was the Harry Potter movie, which is an extremely huge matter in itself...mmm...Dan Radcliffe...Huh? Oh? What? Oh, I mean...so, anyway, expect more updates (I think...), because school is officially OVER!!! Hip, hip, HUZZAH!  
  
Now that we've gotten that out of the way...  
  
This chapter's a little...odd. I wanted a confrontation and a midnight stroll (because I'm a big fan of the midnight stroll), but I don't really like how the last conversation turned out, so...I may change it later. I know I say that like every chapter, but...anyway. You know you want to review and make the nice author happy!  
  
--LQ  
  
Kel stared at the ceiling, eyes reflecting the moonlight shining in through the open window. The wind rippled the curtains slightly, making the shadows flicker eerily and her shiver, but she kept it open in hopes that the crisp air would clear her murky thoughts. Needless to say, it didn't work very well.  
  
She was exhausted; her body craved sleep, but every time she tried to lull herself into slumber, the image of a pair of devastated green eyes appeared in her mind. The night watch had long ago called the midnight hour, and she kept glancing at the horizon, willing it to glow pink with the first tendrils of dawn. To her constant irritation, the stars above shone as strongly and coldly as ever.  
  
After numerous attempts to fall asleep, which included turning over restlessly multiple times, she growled a curse and sat up, shaking her flyaway hair away from her face. Exasperated with herself and her insomnia, she pulled on breeches and stuffed her feet into her scuffed boots, intending to walk along the wall until she became so tired that all images, green-eyed or otherwise, were firmly out of her mind.  
  
She hoisted herself off the cot, opened the door as quietly as possible, and began to creep down the hallway, wincing as her boots clunked on the stone floors. The sound echoed along the corridor, reverberating off the walls and seeming, to her, to be deafening. She paused, breath held, watching the flickering shadows at the end of the corridor for any signs of other walkers like herself. Seeing nothing, she eased open the door and stepped outside.  
  
The frigid night air took her by surprise, and she shivered a bit in her thin nightshirt. Still, the coolness on her face felt refreshing after too many hours trapped in a stuffy infirmary room, so she continued on her climb up the stairs.  
  
Too late, she saw the other figure leaning his elbows pensively on the wall. She couldn't turn back now, pretending she hadn't seen him; they had made eye contact for a split second before he returned his stony gaze back to the grounds below. She took a breath and willed herself to approach; it took every ounce of her self-control to make her steps calm and breathing steady as she walked over to lean on the wall beside him.  
  
He didn't say anything, so Kel bit her lip as well, staring out at the moonlight land before them. The silence grew until she felt she couldn't stand it anymore; opening her mouth, she blurted, "Neal, I'm sorry."  
  
Neal swiveled his head to look at her, and she could have sworn that his expression, for a moment, looked an odd mixture of regretful and astonished. But then it was gone, and he looked coldly indifferent again. "For what?" he asked icily, turning back to the landscape. "It's not as if we had anything in the first place."  
  
His words stung Kel, though she tried not to let her emotions show. "I'm sorry you feel that way," she said, trying to keep her voice as cool as his. "I was under the impression that we were best friends."  
  
He laughed bitterly, his apathetic mask beginning to slip. "Last time I checked, Kel, best friends didn't go around—k-kissing each other's cousins!"  
  
Kel felt her cheeks beginning to heat up, as well. "Well, last time I checked, it wasn't any of your business who I kiss!"  
  
His face visibly tightened, as though he was trying to keep himself from yelling. He swallowed hard, and said softly, almost whispering, "You—you could have asked me, that's all!"  
  
She, too, began to lose control of her disinterested façade. "I'm sorry, Neal," she said, voice dripping with uncharacteristic irony, "I'll be sure to ask you the next time I'm contemplating kissing one of your relatives!"  
  
"You do that, Kel," he practically snarled in return, face inches from hers. "And after you're through, I'll ask _myself_ why I ever considered you my best friend!"  
  
Kel was struck at a loss for words, panting slightly from the exertion of holding back so much anger, hurt, and sorrow all at once. Finally, she swallowed. "Fine," she said, rather tremulously. Then, slightly stronger, she continued, "Fine, if that's really how you feel." Her eyes narrowed, and she stepped backward from Neal. "Then maybe we should forget we were ever friends in the first place."  
  
He didn't speak for what seemed like an eternity to Kel. Finally, he said, in a hollow, raspy voice not at all his own, "Go back to bed, Kel. You're still recovering."  
  
She turned on her heel without replying and walked away, mouth set in a grim line to keep herself from breaking down in his presence. If she had chanced turning back, she might have seen Neal collapse onto the outer wall, all pretenses gone, with his head in his hands. But she didn't, too preoccupied on fighting off the tears threatening to roll down her own cheeks.

  
  
Kel stumbled blindly through the hall, not caring anymore about waking up the other temporary residents of the infirmary. Only the thought of others' horribly sympathetic expressions if they found her, crying, on the floor kept her from just lying down on the spot. She ached to let herself succumb to the heaving sobs threatening to work their way up from her chest, but she still made herself walk on.  
  
Eyes nearly closed, she stumbled over what she had at first taken to be a small bundle of clothes lying across the hallway from her room. To her shock, the bundle began to unfold itself, emerging in the shape of a familiar-looking twelve-year-old. Kel caught a glimpse of a blonde head before she was pinned against the wall, gasping from the force of Tobe's hug.  
  
"Lady!" he yelped excitedly, arms still wrapped around her. "I wen' t' all th' places—th' stables an' y'r rooms an' th' mess but they all said y' were _here_ and y' _weren'_ so I've been waitin'—Lady!" he said, looking up, alarmed, at Kel's tear-streaked cheeks. "Wha'—Lady, y'r cryin'!"  
  
Just the acknowledgement of it made Kel want to break out in fresh tears, but she bit her lip and forced herself to give Tobe a watery smile. "It's nothing, Tobe," she tried to reassure the youth. "Just—just—I've—"  
  
Her stuttering excuses didn't have their desired effect, and Tobe stepped back slightly, looking skeptical. "Lady," he admonished gently, "Y' c'n _tell_ me. I's all righ'."  
  
Kel blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the moisture rising in her eyes, to no avail. "It's—nothing—just," she swallowed, attempting another smile. "I just had a small fight with N-Neal, that's all."  
  
Tobe's expression changed from skeptical to concerned to confused. "Sir—Sir _Neal_?" he asked, brow furrowed. "But—tha's—he _wouldn'_! Not with y' bein' sick an' all—are y'_sure_?"  
  
She stared at him. "Yes..." she said slowly, still sniffling slightly. "Tobe—why do you think Neal wouldn't fight with me?"  
  
Tobe, usually sparing with words, seemed to have been shocked into conversation. "Y'din't _see_ 'im when 'e brought y'up, Lady," he explained, tripping over his words and reverting back to the northern way of speaking that Kel had been trying as of late to cure him of. "'E was all pale an' sweatin' an' lookin' like 'e was gonna fain' 'imself, but 'e 'ad to get y' t' th' 'firm'ry first, if it'd be the last thing 'e'd do." Seeing Kel's own perplexed expression, he went on, "So y'_see_, Lady, 'e couldn've been angry wi' y', 'cause a man who cares tha' much about y' wouldn' go pickin' figh's wi' y'!" Suddenly, he looked at her searchingly. "Y'didn't—_do_ anythin', did y'? T' make 'im, well, upset?"  
  
Kel bit her lip, shifting uncomfortably. "Well--I--sort of--k-kissed Dom. Domitan of Masbolle? Um--Neal's cousin?"  
  
His eyes widened; he stared at her, dumbfounded. "Lady, _why_?" he asked plaintively after a moment. "I's as plain t' anyone tha' y've got feelin's for 'im, and the lad's in practical _love_ wi' y', an' y' go an' kiss 'is _cousin_? _Why_?"  
  
She opened her mouth, ready to defend herself, then closed it, reviewing what he had just said. "_What_?" she asked Tobe, who now looked vaguely guilty. "Did you just—he—_what_?"  
  
He squirmed a bit under her piercing gaze. "Well—I though' y' would've realized it by now—wha' wi' 'im divin' int' death f'r y' an' all—I jus'—"  
  
Kel stood there, poleaxed, as she reviewed all the events of the last few days. Comprehension began to dawn on her face as she pieced it all together—how Neal had risked his life for her, how upset Neal got over her kissing Dom, even that fight that they had just had. And all this time, she had thought her feelings for him were unrequited, that they could never be—and she had kissed _Dom_! What in the world had possessed her? She slowly began to beat her forehead on the wall; she felt so _idiotic_, so—so—  
  
"I have to go find Neal," she muttered to Tobe, who had been standing there throughout her epiphany, watching her with a slightly worried look on his face. "I have to find him and—and do something I should have done a long time ago."  
  
**A/N:  
**  
AHAHAHAHAHAHA! ahem Sorry. You guys have NO idea how long that idiotic chapter took me. A literal two weeks. Poor reviewers! I'm sorry for taking this long, but—I wanted to get it right. And I think I did. Mostly. Bleh.  
  
Okay—not going to obsess over trivial details. I had fun writing Kel's little "epiphany". Before you guys start telling me about how she's too emotional, hey, she's been through a lot. She deserves to have a little bit of a breakdown. And Neal just doesn't want to get hurt again.  
  
And there I go, stalling before I turn this in to ffn. Review! I will dance a good-luck charm under the half-moon for you!  
  
(Um...yeah. It's kind of late...I've been up for a while...in an odd mood...heh.)


	12. Endings and Beginnings

**A/N**: Ouch. Okay, okay, I know it's been like seven years, and I'm not even in school, etc. etc. Don't kill me! Haven't we established already that I'm a horrible updater, and need to BURN, baby, BURN? (Disco inferno!)

-grin-

Aww, c'mon, you guys. You know you love the anticipation. This one's extra long, too. Think of it as a Christmahannukwanzaakawintersolstice present.

Well, without further ado: the twelfth chapter!

--

Kel strode down the hallway in the direction of Neal's rooms. She no longer cared about being silent; the force of what Tobe had just revealed occupied her thoughts. Neal wouldn't have gone back to sleep already, would he? She wanted to talk to him—no, she _needed_ to talk to him. She was so inwardly focused that she didn't see the shadowy figure step out from a nearby hallway until it was too late.

She slammed into a hard surface and staggered back, thinking at first that she had somehow walked into a wall. She looked up, startled, into Dom's sparkling blue eyes. "You all right, Kel?" he asked, brow creasing. "You looked in quite a bit of a hurry."

"I—I'm fine," she stammered, dismayed at his unwitting intrusion on her mission to find Neal. "It's—just—" Unable to come up with a passable excuse for her narrowed eyes and determined expression, she trailed off, hoping he would drop the subject.

Unfortunately, he did not do anything of the sort. "So what are you doing out wandering at this time of night?" he asked, flashing his white teeth in a grin. "I _thought_ I heard someone out here."

"I couldn't sleep," she half-lied, wishing that she had waited until morning to approach Neal. She realized, in retrospect, that he was probably still cooling off from their argument not an hour ago, and wouldn't be in any sort of mood for heartfelt confessions. "I had to take a walk—to clear my head. You understand."

"I do," he agreed. "Perhaps I can be of help," he suggested, cocking an eyebrow. Before she had had time to process the implications of this, he had leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, backing her up against the wall.

Her heart thudded out of surprise, and her eyes widened. She let him kiss her for nearly half a minute, warm mouth against hers, before she managed to push him away. "Dom!" she gasped breathily, realizing with dismay that she sounded _exactly _like the seemingly helpless, vapid court maidens that she despised for leading men on. She inwardly grimaced. She hadn't become like them, had she? Yes, she _had_ kissed Dom before, but…yes. She was exactly like them—pretending to be attracted to one man while really loving another. How could she have let this happen?

Utterly disgusted with herself, she cleared her throat, saying firmly in her normal, most no-nonsense voice, "Dom. What are you doing?"

He grinned at her. "I should have thought that would be obvious," he said, brows raised playfully.

"Yes, but, but—_here_?" Kel stammered, unable to think of a valid excuse to explain to him why she'd kissed him with such fervor only earlier that day, and now had no desire to do any such thing. _She_ knew why, of course: any passion Dom might have felt in her lips that morning had been completely forced, in an effort to convince herself that it was him she loved, and not his green-eyed cousin. She could feel her self-hatred growing even more now; how could she have been so blinded? If she had only stopped trying to fool herself, perhaps Neal wouldn't hate her now. Concerning _that_, there was no doubt in her mind: perhaps he had been fond of her once, maybe even loved her, as Tobe had said, but he most certainly loathed her now, especially after that scathing confrontation on the outer wall. She sighed, trying to focus on Dom rather than her pathetic errors in relationships.

"Why not here?" he wanted to know, the impish glint still in his cerulean gaze. "Who's going to see us? In case you haven't been told, Kel, it _is_ dark outside."

Kel glared at him. "Yes, I realized that," she said, trying to extinguish the spark in his eyes that made her feel increasingly patronized. "But—it seems improper, to just roam the halls doing—doing _that_ sort of thing." She chided herself mentally for the weakness of her arguments, willing herself to simply say it. _Dom, I love Neal._ Easy. Four words. Then no more of this horrible deception that went against her every nature to do.

She was just opening her mouth to come out with it—that she didn't love Dom, hadn't since her first years as a knight—when he stopped her words by placing his mouth over hers again. This time she showed no hesitation in firmly pushing him away. "Dom. I mean it."

Now he looked much less cheerful. "What's the matter with you, Kel?" he asked, expression mulish. "You had no problem kissing me earlier." He crossed his arms and stared her down, waiting for an explanation.

"I…" Kel searched for the tactful way to tell him. Finding that there was none, she exhaled loudly and said quickly, "It was a mistake."

His eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"A mistake, Dom." His disbelieving and increasingly angry expression did not change, so Kel felt she had to go on. "I had just woken up, and I was confused, and—" She interrupted herself. If she was going to tell the truth, she had to tell the entire story, not a tale assembled from various half-lies. She swallowed. "And—I—I—"

He cut her off. "A mistake." His sapphire eyes, far from being playful now, were hard and stony. "Really." Before she could go on, to tell the truth, to expel the lying bile that had been building up for days, perhaps even years, he snapped, "Well, frankly, Kel, I for one do not like hearing that it was a _mistake _to toy with my affections. I don't like hearing that it was a _mistake_ to kiss me the way you did, and I don't like _making_ the _mistake_ of regarding you as a sensible, capable knight."

"Dom, wait, this is—" she stammered. In a way, this was a relief, a gasping, weak-at the-knees relief, but she hated leaving things like this. She had at least regarded Dom as a friend, if not something more; now their relationship was no more than a few bloody and broken last words.

"No, Kel. This is _nothing_." He turned to walk away, then stopped. "Wait. It's not nothing, right? It's a _mistake_."

She gaped after him, aching for something to say. "Dom—" He kept walking. "I—I'm sorry…"

His angry footsteps were the only reply.

Kel leaned her head against the wall, feeling her legs tremble slightly from a head-spinning mixture of relief, sorrow, and adrenaline. She exhaled slowly, releasing a quivering breath, and slid down the wall to contemplate the stony, mud-encrusted flooring. Perhaps she would just sleep out here tonight, rather than face angry Dom or optimistic Tobe or (she gulped) _Neal_ in the morning. Long dispelled were her plans to talk to him about what Tobe had said; after the confrontation with Dom, she was in no mood to drive the pain in her heart in deeper.

She hugged her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees in thought. Now that she thought about it, she _missed_ Neal. Not just as a potential lover, but as a friend. With him hating any glimpse of her, she had no one to joke with, to flirt with.

To connect with.

She sighed and closed her eyes. If only she could take it back—take it _all_ back. She ached to recapture that easiness she'd had with Neal, that unquestioned reassurance that they were always there for each other, through life and beyond. That playful interaction that thinly masked the bone-deep loyalty for each other that lay close to their bones. Neal was the only one who could always, always, _always_ see straight through her placid Yamani mask to the Kel—the true Kel—who lay dormant beneath. He wasn't afraid to scold and reprimand, but he was also a source of true comfort whenever it was needed. Kel dearly missed their relationship, which spoke of not shallow courtship or mere friendship, but something deeper. Maybe something like love.

Burying her head in between her knees, she felt unbidden tears slip down her cheeks. That undemanding, comforting camaraderie was lost, and she had no idea how to get it back.

She must have dozed off, sitting there, because the soft hand on her shoulder nearly made her jump out of her skin. Inhaling sharply, she grabbed the offending wrist, ready to defend herself from any attacker, but relaxed when she looked into emerald eyes.

He half-smiled gently, messy hair flopping on his forehead. "I suppose when a woman sleeps in a hallway, she has to be ready for anything."

Kel tentatively tried a smile, heart still beating wildly from the combination of her scare and his proximity. "H-hello, Neal."

"So, Kel…" he said a bit awkwardly, sliding down on the wall to sit beside her, "What _are_ you up to at this time of night? You should be in bed, you know." His tone was teasing, but his eyes were caring.

She couldn't help staring at him, baffled. Was this the same man whose eyes had blazed pure, untamed fury less than a few hours ago? He had seemed so ready to forsake her, to reject her, to forget that they were ever friends; yet now, his unassuming, good-natured personality had returned? She couldn't help wondering what had caused this change in passionate, opinion-driven Neal.

Neal sighed as he saw her doubtful glances. That strange half-smile played about his lips again, only this time, it was more wistful than compelling. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm out here, too."

Kel nodded, not trusting herself to speak, what with all the unasked questions surging up from deep within the pit of her soul.

"I mean, after our argument last night…well, you know." The smile disappeared, replaced by a yearning regret in his countenance. "I'm sorry, by the way. I shouldn't have yelled. Not like that."

She shrugged, trying to hide her own hurt and suspicion deep beneath a shield of indifference. "Well, if that was how you truly felt, then I suppose it was good that you yelled."

He half-turned to face her, eyes pleading. "But Kel—it _wasn't _how I truly felt. It's just—at the thought of you kissing my _cousin_, I just—went crazy, I guess. I didn't mean the things I said. You have no idea how much I regret them now."

Kel remained silent, trying to keep her conflicting emotions under control.

He sighed again, sliding further down the wall. "After you left last night, I got to thinking." He glanced at her, as if to gauge her reaction, but she kept her face carefully placid. "I decided that no matter what, Kel, you will _always_ be my friend. I may not like the fact that you're kissing my relatives,"—here, something like disgust flitted across his features—"But if that's what you want, I can respect that. I suppose."

"Neal, I—" Kel began, feeling as if a great load had been lifted from her shoulders, but he plowed on.

"I just wanted to let you know that it doesn't matter if you love Dom, or me, or Tobe, or--" he began to speed up, his gentle façade slipping off and voice growing all the more unsteady, "I-I don't know, _Peachblossom_, that I'll always be here for you as your friend first, even if I can't be your—"

"Neal! Just—"

"And I realized that when you're not around, Kel, I feel like dung. Just dung. I need you at least as a friend to keep me grounded through the good times and afloat through the bad times and somewhere in the middle the rest of the time. And that if we parted ways badly, Kel, I couldn't live with myself. A-And I know I acted like a complete prig last night and that if I were you, I wouldn't like me anymore, either, except I _need_ you to like me, Kel, because if you don't, I don't know what—"

Realizing there was no way she could reach Neal now that he had been set off, Kel turned to face him. As he rambled on, the worried, heartfelt look in his eyes became almost irresistible, and more and more of his hair began to flop in his face. These small details, for some reason, gave her the courage to do what she normally wouldn't. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she gently pressed her lips to his.

This silenced him quite effectively.

As she pulled away, she saw that his green eyes were round and disbelieving. "You—but—Dom—and—yesterday—" he stammered, running a long-fingered hand through his hair.

Kel shook her head violently, wisps of her short hair clinging to her cheeks. "Neal, what you saw yesterday," she began uncomfortably, "It—it wasn't anything. I know I sound like a harlot saying this, but—" she felt a smile tugging at the edge of her mouth, "—it was never _Dom_ I wanted to kiss."

His high brow was slightly furrowed. "Then—you—" Suddenly he looked up at her, vision clearing. "Oh." A smile to match hers appeared on his lips. "_Oh_."

"'Oh' indeed," Kel told him, brushing one of his bangs out of his face.

Joyous and relieved green eyes met laughing hazel ones, and Kel felt a reverberation of electricity tingle throughout her limbs as Neal leaned forward to meet her—or perhaps _she_ leaned forward to meet _him_—and their mouths collided in what could only be called a kiss.

Kel felt passion surge through her as his warm lips pressed against hers, and all of a sudden, everything that had been sharp and hard and pain and suffering was just so _right_. It had to be right, because nothing could be wrong, not now, with the two of them in each other's arms after so long.

When they finally broke apart, panting slightly, Neal's hair was, needless to say, even messier than before. He let himself slide down the wall onto the floor, dragging Kel down on top of him with a squeak. "Now, Lady Keladry," he said teasingly, encircling her with muscular arms, "_That_ was a kiss."

She smiled at him impishly, feeling a little giddy. "I'm not sure, Sir Nealan," she said, matching his tone. "Domitan of Masbolle has quite a kiss as well."

"How dare you, chit?" he demanded, face screwed up in mock outrage. "I assure you, Domitan's boorish handling of his romantic affairs is _much_ less refined than my own."

Kel raised an eyebrow playfully. "Really," she said, seemingly unswayed. "Perhaps I need a little more convincing."

He grinned at her unabashedly, green eyes alight. "Perhaps you do," he said, pulling her towards him.

She let him, only halting herself an inch from his nose. "Sir Nealan?"

That ever-charming half-smile was back. "Yes, Lady Keladry?"

"I'm glad."

There was no need for her to elaborate; he knew _exactly_ what she was glad about. He smiled up at her. "As am I, dear Keladry. As am I."

--

--

**A/N:**

I don't think words are needed.

Squee.

Fluff is my friend.

Review, PLEASE!

Oh, and look forward to an epilogue chapter. I hate to leave loose ends (i.e., Dom) hanging. –wicked grin-


End file.
